


While I Breathe

by PersonalSpin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Demigods, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gabe is literally the Grim Reaper, Grief/Mourning, Hanzo Shimada has Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Siblings Fareeha "Pharah" Amari & Jesse McCree, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Time Shenanigans, Young Jesse McCree/Young Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonalSpin/pseuds/PersonalSpin
Summary: The night Genji dies, Hanzo makes a deal with Death. Things get weird after that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again at the mchanzo big bang  
> as always, big thanks to Dee for running this thing. This year my artist was Brandewyn and bouncyenvos who both produced some amazing art as i slowly chugged away writing this fic. i'll include them in the fic and link to them once they've been posted.
> 
> this fic was hard going and has not been beta read - if you see any mistakes, let me know? anyway, i watched a lot of legacy of kain let's plays recently, and read mort by sir terry pratchett 15 years ago. plus, always kinda wanted to do my own take on mythology/demi-god au.

Not long before Genji died, Hanzo sent everyone from the room. He wanted to be alone as he prepared Genji, lighting the incense and placing it at the head of the futon; at the foot, he placed a single lit candle. It would serve as a warning as Hanzo kept vigil over Genji. Outside the room, Shimada Castle was quiet, already mourning their favourite son. Hanzo did not join them — he refused to mourn while Genji was still alive.

While Hanzo waited, he tried to keep his breathing steady, to clear his mind of any distractions, but it was difficult. In front of him Genji was pale and cold, his eyelashes a dark fan against his cheeks. He had been dying for a long time. Part of Hanzo still rebelled at the thought that Genji's time was approaching — the rest agreed with the doctors. Genji would not survive the night, not unless something drastic was done for him.

As the early hours of the morning approached, Hanzo was struggling to keep his eyes open. The exhaustion was a near-deafening buzz in his head but Genji was still breathing, and as long as that held true Hanzo wouldn't lose hope.

The candle suddenly started to gutter in the otherwise still room. Hanzo went cold as it struggled in a wind he could not feel, the room growing dark until with a final gust, the candle went out. He held his breath and waited.

When the hooded figure stepped into the room from nowhere, Hanzo still stared. They paid him no mind as they pulled an old fashioned pocket watch from the depths of their cloak, which floated around them in tendrils, more smoke than cloth. Their face was hidden in the shadows of their hood but they seemed to regard the watch for a moment before tucking it away out of sight.

Hᴍᴍ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ.

The words appeared in Hanzo's head, devoid of sound but somehow deep and echoing like the ringing of an enormous bell. Hanzo shivered at how small he felt. The movement must have caught the spirit’s eye as they turned towards Hanzo. He recoiled in horror, keeping back the shout only by biting his lower lip hard enough to bleed, and the skeletal face of the hooded figure leered back. An unnatural glow shined in the empty eye sockets, yet they didn't seem surprised that Hanzo could see him — if anything, they seemed annoyed as they crossed their arms over their chest.

Dᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜʏ I'ᴍ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ sᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇ?

Hanzo let out a small noise at hearing the hollow voice again, like the lonely echo of a mausoleum. He recovered enough to scramble to his feet and bowed low, keeping his eyes on the floor. "I…" he started, licking his lips as he struggled to remember the words he had prepared. It'd seemed so much simpler when he'd been waiting. "I am here to bargain for my brother's life."

I ɢᴜᴇssᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴍᴜᴄʜ. Wᴇʟʟ, ʟᴇᴛ's ʜᴇᴀʀ ɪᴛ.

"My life," Hanzo rasped. "My life for my brother's. Please."

I'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ.

Hanzo risked a look up. The spirit had no expression on their skeletal face, no sign of emotion in their glowing eyes, but the voice in Hanzo's head sounded sincere. He tried not to panic. "Please, I am offering you the only thing I have that is worth anything," Hanzo said, his palms up in supplication.

I'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ.

"You must!" Hanzo cried. "Genji cannot die!"

Lɪsᴛᴇɴ, ᴋɪᴅ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴅɪᴇs. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ?

"He doesn't deserve this. He's only 15, he— he deserves a long life."

The figure pinched the bridge of their boney nose and heaved a sigh that sounded like a typhoon, like the roar of a wildfire in the mountains. Mostly though, it sounded like the figure was disappointed with Hanzo's answer.

Aɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇ? Nᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴇᴛs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇ.

Behind them Genji still drew shallow breaths. There was still hope. The figure tilted their head as Hanzo drew the knife from his obi, making no move to attack or to defend himself.

Rᴇᴀʟʟʏ? Iᴛ's ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ.

He sounded amused, the grin on their skeletal face mocking the foolishness of such a desperate act. Hanzo tightened his grip on the knife, shifting his stance as he tried to ignore how slick his palms were with sweat. The figure still did not move.

Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sʜᴀᴋɪɴɢ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪsʜ?

"I cannot let you take him," Hanzo swore to them. The figure regarded him a moment longer before nodding.

They held out their hand to Hanzo.

Aʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, I'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴏғғᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. Pᴜᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴɪғᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ.

Hanzo faltered, his grip on his knife slipping in shock. "What?"

Yᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏғ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇ. Lɪᴋᴇ I sᴀɪᴅ, ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅᴀʏ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴs ᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋɴɪғᴇ.

Hanzo glanced from the figure, to his outstretched hand, to Genji. Still so pale. "And if I do this… if I work for you, Genji gets to live?" Hanzo asked slowly, his heart thundering in his chest. He wanted so badly to hope.

Yᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ's ᴅʏɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ I ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ Tɪᴍᴇ.

"Time?"

As ᴍᴜᴄʜ Tɪᴍᴇ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ.

Hanzo took another steadying breath and a wash of calm came over him. There was no decision for him. He placed his hand with the knife in the figure's. "I accept your offer."

Sᴍᴀʀᴛ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ, ᴋɪᴅ.

Their grip was cold as they took the knife but not unusually so, like the spirit had just stepped in from the night. The knife was tucked away inside his cloak and the figure took a step back towards the door, back where he had appeared from nowhere. Hanzo followed him before suddenly stiffening. "Before we go, may I—?"

Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇs. Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴇᴇ Gᴇɴᴊɪ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ.

Hanzo nodded and went to crouch at Genji's side. His brother was still breathing but every part of him was still. "Goodbye Genji, at least for now. I— I hope you will understand why I did this for you." Hanzo scrubbed at his eyes and sniffed hard. he had so much more he wanted to say, but the only person who wouldn't hear was the one person Hanzo wished could. "Please take care of yourself without me," he whispered, his voice wavering. Gathering himself, Hanzo stood, and his decision settled over his shoulders like a heavy weight.

The figure watched him, revealing nothing. They simply held out his hand again.

Yᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀɴɢ ᴏɴ, ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɢᴜʀᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ.

Hanzo nodded as he quashed the childish desire to look back. The room started to fade around him as soon as he took the figure's hand, blurring and losing all colour. Hanzo refused to be scared, holding on tighter, and the red glow of the spirit’s eyes engulfed everything.

Hanzo snapped back to reality with a jolt, jerking his hand from the figure's grip before he could think better of it. "What? Where—?" Without seeming to move at all, they were no longer in Genji's room. Green-grey fields stretched out under an overcast sky as white star-shaped flowers on long stalks swayed with the wind. They were nowhere Hanzo recognised.

Tʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ. C'ᴍᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ.

Not knowing what else to do, Hanzo followed the hooded figure. The meadow was completely silent; not a single bird sang or insect buzzed. Sometimes the flowers shivered in a breeze that carried their sweet scent over the grass but over it all silence reigned. It felt wrong to disturb that silence with more questions so Hanzo swallowed them, his bare feet digging into the soft earth and his chin tucked into his chest.

At the bottom of the valley glittered a lake the same slate colour as the sky, a house by the shore that was every bit as normal looking as the spirit Hanzo was following was not — small and unassuming, with whitewashed walls and smoke curling out of the chimney. Hanzo didn't consider that meant someone was _inside_ the house until the front door was thrown open so hard it banged into the opposite wall. A scrawny boy ran out to meet them, grinning from ear to ear. "Gabe!"

He couldn't be much older than Genji. The thought flitted across Hanzo's mind and was gone in a moment but the impression stayed. They didn't look anything alike, beyond both having messy hair and big smiles. Or, that was what Genji looked like ordinarily — for weeks Genji smiled only weakly, even his hair limp. It made Hanzo irrationally angry that this boy could be alive and healthy when Genji was — _had been_ — dying.

The boy did a visible double-take when he noticed Hanzo, stopping in his tracks so suddenly he nearly tripped over his own over-large boots. "Who the hell is that supposed to be?" he asked loudly, pointing at Hanzo as though there was any doubt. His smile disappeared under a heavy scowl that was too old for his youthful face. Hanzo sneered back at him.

"Easy there, _mijo_."

Hanzo did his own double-take at the hooded figure, who the boy had called Gabe. His hood had been lowered at some point, revealing not a skull with ghostly lights for eyes but a handsome man with dark skin and a goatee. Gabe chuckled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he mussed the boy's hair. "Stand down, Jesse. This is Hanzo, he'll be staying here a while."

The boy Jesse ducked his hand and gave Hanzo another suspicious squint. "Yeah? And what's he gonna be doin' while he's staying here? He ain't here for my job, is he?"

"Why would I need two guard dogs?" Gabe said as he walked through the still open door into his house.

Jesse huffed and gave Hanzo another filthy look. "I'm watchin' you," he growled.

The boy, messy-haired and skinny, in scuffed boots and a red neckerchief, was the least intimidating creature Hanzo had yet to see. Hanzo snorted and made sure to knock his shoulder into him on his way into the house.

The simpleness of the outside was reflected on the inside, with stone floors covered in rugs and worn wooden furniture. Hanzo smoothed his face, putting on a blandly neutral expression to cover his frown at the modest living space. It was as quiet as outside — here at least, Hanzo could pretend that the cottage was simply small and not empty like the meadows.

Gabe removed his cloak, folding over his arm like liquid smoke, dripping shadows to the ground. Perhaps it was the source of his power; without it, Gabe looked like just a man, standing in a place that was just a home. Hanzo felt something uglier than disappointment churn in the pit of his stomach — exactly what creature had he made a deal with?

"Hanzo, Jesse," Gabe said sharply.

Jesse shuffled over, digging a bony elbow into Hanzo's ribs as he stood next to him. "Yeah, Gabe?"

"Show Hanzo around, get him set up in a spare room and make sure he knows his way." Jesse grunted and stomped off down the hallway without looking to see if Hanzo was following. Gabe rolled his eyes. "Ignore him,” Gabe said to Hanzo, not bothering to lower his voice. “He doesn’t meet new people a lot.”

"Will—" Hanzo paused. Gabe raised an eyebrow, and Hanzo had a thought that he was more expressive like this. As anybody would be when his face was more than a bare skull. Hanzo pushed down harder on the sick feeling. "There are others?" he asked quietly, not sure if now was the time to do so.

Gabe turned to him more fully. “Yes. There are others like me and Jesse, more who work for me. Only Jesse lives here, however,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Hanzo nodded, already filing that information away. He would have to be on guard, as Gabe had shown even appearances were not to trusted. Jesse might look like fifteen year old, and even act like it, but who knew what he really was. Hanzo opened his mouth to ask another question but Gabe was turning away again.

“Tomorrow we can start on the details of your job. For now get some rest, you're ready to fall down," he said, looking at his pocket watch again.

The exhaustion Hanzo had been battling during his vigil had returned with a vengeance now that the shock and fear had faded. He suspected he truly might fall over if he didn't rest soon, but he didn't want his new superior to know. Hanzo nodded and walked after Jesse, taking carefully measure steps, his eyes forward and his head straight.

Jesse was leaning against the wall around the corner, arms folded over his chest while he glowered at the floor like it had offended him. He rolled his eyes when he saw Hanzo and pushed himself off of the wall. "'Bout time you showed up. Having too much fun gossiping with Reyes?" he sniped as he lead the way further into the house.

Hanzo ignored him in favour of looking around. The cottage had not seemed large enough from the outside to have very many rooms, yet the hallway had door after door leading off of it. Every corner Jesse led him down only brought more, with only a small table or a muted painting to break the monotony. Hanzo accepted that the building was a facade faster than he thought he would. Perhaps the house was small and all of the rooms were stacked on top of each other; like pages in a book, a palimpsest for a home.

He was almost fascinated and tempted to ask Jesse. The spirit, or companion to one, whatever job it was Jesse had and was so protective of, didn’t let his scowl drop for a single moment though so Hanzo occupied himself with his own thoughts. Hopefully by now Genji was recovering, possibly even awake.

"Yer not much of a talker, are ya?" Jesse asked with a snide curl to his lips. After a moment when Hanzo didn't look at him or deign to answer, Jesse let out an irritated little grunt. "They don't teach you manners where you're from?"

Hanzo clenched his jaw but the words came spilling out anyway, clipped as he finally turned to scowl at Jesse. "When you have done something to deserve manners, I shall let you know."

Jesse got up in Hanzo's face with a snarl, or as close as he could considering he was several inches shorter. "I'm 'bout to—"

Hanzo struck him in the chest with the heel of his palm, hard enough that Jesse stumbled back with a cough. The ugly feeling in his gut rose up and Hanzo almost choked on it, the sudden urge to hurt someone as deeply as he was hurting. Hanzo didn’t often run away but he fled Jesse and that vicious urge, running down the hallway. Jesse did not follow him.

The cottage seemed to be nothing but endless hallways, door after identical door. Hanzo kept running, hoping for something to appear, but soon enough his lungs gave out and his vision went grey at the edges. Hanzo slid down the wall to kneel with his forehead pressed to the cool plaster. His hands were shaking, everything from the waist down ached, and his head was thumping with his heartbeat hard enough that he had to close his eyes or risk vomiting.

Hanzo tried to slow his breathing, to think more clearly about his situation. Running was foolish, that much was clear, so that left opening a door or going back. Jesse was the last person he wanted to see so gathering his courage, Hanzo shuffled on his knees to the nearest door. Taking a moment to simply breathe with his hand on the handle, he considered what was on the other side but it couldn't possibly get any stranger than he'd already been subjected to. Hanzo needed to sleep; if he could forget if only for a couple of hours.

The door swung open and inside was a bedroom, as innocuous and ordinary as the rest of the cottage. The bed looked freshly made with a tidy little desk and chair under the single window. Floral curtains matched the rug on the floor and exposed beams slanted across the ceiling. Outside, the white flowers of the meadow swayed in the wind.

Hanzo stumbled inside and slammed the door shut behind him. He grabbed the chair and wedged it under the handle, shoving with what little strength he had left. It would have to do for a lock as Hanzo collapsed face first on to the bed, making the boxsprings squeaking in protest.

His head still buzzed like a plucked string as Hanzo lay stiffly on the bed. Gradually, the smell of clean linens and the soft silence of the bedroom let him relax, until Hanzo relented with a sigh and sank boneless into the sheets. He blinked listlessly at the tiny sliver of the meadow he could see through the window, watching the flowers. Hanzo's thoughts didn't slow so much as fade into static before he passed out.

Hanzo regretted waking up almost before he was fully conscious. He'd slept deeply and woke to find himself still face-down in the sheets, without having removed so much as his hairtie. The feeling of dried sweat on his skin made Hanzo grimace, and rolling over didn't help as he felt his clothes peel off of him. He laid on his back, staring at the beams in the ceiling and trying to gather his resolve to move further.

Last night hadn't been a dream. That thought should have brought some emotion with it; fear at not knowing where he was, anxiety at not knowing if Genji was recovered yet. If Hanzo's disappearance had been noticed. Instead, Hanzo just felt numb, his reactions distant like a storm on the horizon, leaving him a bystander in his own body.

A knocking at the door broke through Hanzo's thoughts, followed by the handle rattling. He rolled his head over to stare at it as the handle jumped once more before going still. "Hanzo?" someone called. Hanzo couldn't place the voice, though he felt he should have recognised it. "You in there?"

A brief but fierce internal debate ensued, and refusing to move lost out to avoiding the stranger. There was only one door, but it was a simple matter to pry open the window and climb out. If whoever was looking for Hanzo managed to move the chair or break down the door, they would find nothing but an empty room, an open window and rumpled sheets long since gone cold.

The weather hadn't improved since last night; if anything the clouds were even closer, heavy with rain. Hanzo didn't recall seeing the sun set or rise, so perhaps it didn't. Perhaps that wasn't even his sun. The greyish pall over that world made it seem flat and unreal, like it was simply a backdrop for a stage and Hanzo was performing without knowing his lines. He walked up the valley without realising how far he was from the cottage until he looked back. It looked so small, like a little ceramic figurine he could pluck from its surroundings.

There was no landmarks in the meadow, no other sign of habitation. A forest was little more than a shadow on the horizon and behind that the ghostly blue shape of mountains, but otherwise the meadow was nothing but endless waves of star-shaped flowers, nothing but the house on the lake. The sharp wind tugged at his hair and around him the world was utterly silent.

Hanzo tried to breathe deep, to push down the panic he could feel trying to take hold. He had been desperate last night but he had given the spirit Gabe his word that he would work for him. In exchange Genji would live, and Hanzo kept that at the front of his mind as he turned back towards the house. His brother would recover and live his life. The elders would likely make him the new heir, now that Hanzo was gone, and Genji would undoubtedly hate it.

So long as Genji was alive to hate it, and could find it in himself to miss Hanzo. Hanzo took some small solace in that.

It seemed a good idea to re-enter the cottage by the front door, rather than through a window like a thief, but Hanzo paused in the doorway with his hand still on the handle. Instead of the foyer he had seen last time, Hanzo had stepped into a rustic kitchen. Drying herbs hung from the rafters and a kettle whistled on the stove so the whole room was warm and fragrant.

A woman, her head covered in a scarf, stood from the kitchen table. "Ah, there you are, Hanzo. Come, sit with us," she said, her voice just as warm as the kitchen. Her single eye wrinkled at the corner as she smiled — her other eye was hidden beneath a patch. "Close the door, _habibi,_ the tea will be ready soon."

Hanzo lurched into motion, feeling like he'd forgotten he had limbs as he finally closed the door behind him. "My apologies."

The sound of someone snorting drew Hanzo's eyes to the man sat at the kitchen table. "Howdy, nice'a you to join us," he drawled, his words dripping with an insincere sweetness. He mimed shooting him with a fingergun. "Didn't get lost in the house, did'ja?" the man asked in that same tone.

Hanzo didn't know this man — the voice, however, he could place as the one that had called to him from the other side of the bedroom door. There was also something faintly familiar about him, a hardness to his eyes like he had already got a measure of Hanzo and had found him wanting. Hanzo couldn't have said what he had done to earn the man's dislike, only that he returned it. He scowled at this scruffy-looking man before coldly dismissing him. "I am sorry," Hanzo said to the woman as she poured the tea. "I do not know your name."

"You may call me Ana," she said, smiling at him before cutting a look at the man. "I understand you've already been introduced to Jesse."

"We met yesterday, yeah, before he went and punched me in the throat." When Jesse caught Hanzo's eye, he mimed tipping his hat, a sardonic little smirk on his face.

The man bore a striking resemblance to the boy Hanzo had met yesterday, especially when he glared like that. The fact that he was easily ten years Jesse's senior only reinforced to Hanzo that appearances couldn't be trusted, when not even a thing like age was static.

"Jesse, if you cannot be civil, perhaps you should go see where Fareeha has run off to," Ana said in a perfectly even voice. The look she gave Jesse with her single eye was all steel, razor sharp. "Please, sit. Don't let Jesse's attitude put you off. He is being a... an obnoxious turd."

The way Ana's nose wrinkled as she clearly tried and failed to come up with a different way to phrase that, and the injured look on Jesse's face, did more to break the tension than her invitation to tea. Hanzo snorted and sat at the table, accepting the cup when she passed it to him. The porcelain was scalding hot but Hanzo was grateful for the burn, for something to focus on. It grounded him, and Hanzo felt like he could finally take a breath deep enough to fill his lungs, blowing it out slowly through pursed lips. "Thank you," he said a little belatedly, smiling at Ana.

If not for the man at the table with him, who kicked his dusty boots up on to the table until a look from Ana had him moving them down again, the kitchen would've been cozy. _Homely_ , which was a strange thing to think when it was so different from Hanzo's actual home. It was perhaps the first time Hanzo had felt safe since he'd arrived in this place. He took a sip and hummed quietly — chamomile, with plenty of milk and sugar. Different but pleasant, and he took another sip.

Ana sat at the table across from Hanzo with her own steaming mug of tea. "I understand you came here last night with Gabriel," she said as she lifted the mug and blew on the tea.

"I did, yes," Hanzo said, stiffly formal. "He offered me a job when he- when we met."

Next to her, Jesse snorted and sank down further in his seat, his mug left on the table to grow cold. Ana hummed, her eye narrowed in thought. "Tell us about yourself, Hanzo," she said in a tone that made it clear it was not a request.

"I…" She already knew his name; how much of his circumstances did she also know? Hanzo stiffened when he realised his mistake, setting the mug back on the table and winding his fingers together to keep from gripping his _hakama_ until they tore. He should have realised this was an interrogation sooner. "What is it you wish to know?"

Ana frowned and opened her mouth but a clatter at the kitchen door had everyone turning to look in time to see the door slam open and a little girl come barrelling in. "Mom!"

Jesse caught her before she could collide with the table. "Woah there, Pharah, what's with all the yellin'?"

Fareeha pointed behind her to a tall, thin woman standing in the kitchen doorway. Her angular features were sharp with irritation, a muscle in her jaw ticking furiously, as she made no effort to disguise her displeasure. "Oh look, everyone's here. Everyone save Gabriel. He does so love to be difficult to pin down." Her voice was as dry and joyless as a taxidermised butterfly, and she looked over everyone like they were so many insects before settling on Hanzo. "Hmm, you must be his newest stray."

Hanzo glared back at her, lifting his chin. "I am Shimada Hanzo."

Something about that seemed to amuse her, her smile stretching the thin skin of her face. "I don't recall asking."

"Moira," Ana said in warning. Hanzo could see Jesse shifting in the corner of his eye as the tension in the room became thick enough to choke on.

Hanzo ignored everyone to keep glaring at Moira, who narrowed her eyes in thought. "You do seem familiar though, Shimada Hanzo," she said, tapping a long nail against her chin. "Tell me, has a member of your family died due to disease or illness?"

Hanzo went still. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, and distantly he saw Jesse placing himself between them. "That's enough, Moira. You've had yer fun." Jesse sounded like he was underwater, or maybe it was Hanzo drowning. He couldn't seem to get enough air, his skin clammy and cold.

"This is not a social visit." Moira stood perfectly straight, one arm tucked behind her back,as her white went white before their eyes. Her skin faded to grey-blue as a corpse as even her clothing started to rot. Something predatory lingered in her white eyes as she turned to Hanzo with a cold, assessing look. "Call me Pestilence. And you'll have to forgive my forgetfulness, you were only knee high to an ant the last time I saw you. Septicaemia as a result of bacterial pneumonia, a very nasty way to go. Your mother, correct?"

A howl of some terrible emotion split the air, the sting in Hanzo's throat the only indication that the inhuman sound was coming from him. Hanzo launched himself at Moira, and it was only because Jesse was already stood between them that he caught him.

"Hey! Hanzo!" Jesse yelled over the noise in Hanzo's head. He caught an elbow in the ribs and grunted but didn't let go. "Calm down!"

" _Let me go!_ " Hanzo kicked and thrashed against Jesse, his voice cracking at the edges. Moira smirked and turned back to the kitchen doorway — a red mist descended over Hanzo's eyes as he bayed for her blood.

Ana's face appeared in front of Hanzo, her cool hands cupping his face. "Hanzo, please, be calm." Hanzo couldn't bring himself to swing at her but he still strained against Jesse's hands, teeth gritted in a feral snarl. Her hands stayed gentle, not trying to stop him but guiding him, steadying him so he hurt himself less in his desperate attempts to escape. "Breathe, Hanzo. Breathe with me." She took a deep breath, held it for a beat, before blowing it out through pursed lips.

Hanzo didn't want to _breathe_ but inevitably he fell into her rhythm of long, slow breathes, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The clawing feeling in his chest loosened — it felt less like it disappeared than it returned to a simmer, but Hanzo could think more clearly as the noise in his head faded. Jesse let his arms drop tentatively and Hanzo shoved away from him, Ana's hands falling from his face as he took a few steps away to compose himself.

When Hanzo looked up, Moira was gone. Fareeha was standing behind her mother and was gaping at Hanzo like he was a monster, while Jesse still had his hands raised and prepared to restrain him again. Only Ana had anything like sympathy in her eye so Hanzo addressed his question to her. "Who was that woman and why did she know about my mother?" he rasped, his throat raw from the force of the sound that had violent ripped itself from deep in his chest.

Ana pressed her lips together. "Fareeha, could you find Gabriel and bring him here? Thank you." Her daughter nodded, shooting a look at Jesse before she ran back out the door. "Hanzo, how much did Gabriel tell you about who he is? What he is?"

Hanzo took another step back, hating how fenced in he felt by the look Ana pinned him with. "What does Gabriel have to do with her?" he snapped, jabbing a finger at the empty doorway as his anger rose along with his voice. "Who _was_ that? Another spirit or creature?"

"We are not spirits or monsters." Ana tried to reach out, to place her hand on Hanzo's arm but he jerked away from her. The thought of being touched in that moment made the anger bubble up in a strangled noise but Ana still kept talking in a low, soothing voice. "Gabriel offered you a job, correct? How do you suppose the rest of us came to be here?"

Hanzo looked into Ana's single eye and could feel himself accepting it. Not spirits or monsters — people with jobs. Ana explained that Gabriel had been administrating Death for a long time, longer even than she'd been the one administrating Time, though she made clear that she was not Gabe's subordinate as Hanzo was. Gabriel had taken the title along with the job from a predecessor. It was their Duty, and the way she pronounced it made it clear to Hanzo that it was capitalised.

An ugly, bitter laugh clogged his throat until Hanzo couldn't contain it anymore — he'd been so foolish. In taking Gabe's offer Hanzo thought he would be evading such obligation but he'd simply sworn himself to another. The Clan looked so petty when in front of him stood the individual who made the world run on time.

The thought that Ana could turn into a corpse as Moira had done, or turn completely skeletal like Gabriel, made Hanzo's stomach turn. He willed away the revulsion and fear, screwing his eyes shut so he didn't have to look into Ana's face, or Jesse's, and imagine them hollow and lifeless. "And this woman, Moira, she controls illnesses?" Hanzo sneered. "She is the one who decides who gets ill and dies?"

"Not controls, no. Moira doesn't make anyone become sick," Ana said. Hanzo shook his head but not in denial. "These things are simply a part of life. Necessary."

Hanzo felt like he'd been kicked in the chest, the one word echoing through his mind until it sounded like a scream. Ana sounded like Gabe in that moment, as he'd stood over Genji while Hanzo pleaded for his life and told him that everyone dies. Hanzo ducked his head as he took a deep breath, and another, and squeezed his own fingers until they ached. "No."

"No?"

Hanzo bared his teeth. "I refuse to accept this," he bit out, each word clipped and angry. Anger was familiar at least, a known quantity, and Hanzo grasped it like a lifeline.

Jesse laughed, a mocking little chuckle as he tried to put his hand on Hanzo's shoulder. Hanzo shrugged him off sharply and Jesse returned his sneer with a mean smile of his own. "Accept it, or don't, doesn't make'a lick of difference," he drawled. "If you think saying 'no' and pulling a face changes anything, you're either naive or stupid."

"And your fatalism does not make you wise," Hanzo snapped back. "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do."

Jesse shrugged, and Hanzo bristled as his smile turned condescending. "Everyone winds up food for worms in the end."

"And what is your Duty then, Jesse McCree?" Hanzo asked lowly. Jesse's smile died a sudden death and Hanzo took some satisfaction in the way he recoiled like he'd been slapped. "Are you the security detail here, Death's guard dog? I am unimpressed — seems to me you are all bark and no bite."

"You don't want to see my bite," Jesse growled, brows drawn low over a dark expression. He made the mistake of taking a step towards Hanzo, like he meant to intimidate him, and Hanzo snapped.

Hanzo swung at Jesse, aiming for the face and going wide. He would have bruised his knuckles on Jesse's jaw if he'd connected but Jesse was faster than last night and ducked out of the way in time. Ana shouted something, sounding faraway when all of Hanzo's focus was on Jesse.

McCree grabbed the front of his _kimono_ and yanked Hanzo close enough to see the flecks in his eyes. "Ain't going down so easy this time, partner," he said, his smirk widening when he surprised him. Something in Hanzo's blood sang at the vicious curl on his lips, even as he wanted to bloody it.

He grasped Jesse by the elbow and twisted at the same time he pulled. McCree was yanked off-balance and couldn't recover before Hanzo put his shoulder to Jesse's armpit, gripped his shirt, and heaved. Jesse went sailing over Hanzo's shoulder, hitting on to the kitchen floor hard enough to wind him. For a moment, Hanzo reveled in the stunned look on his face, until Jesse growled and pulled him to the ground as well.

The fight got messy after that. Hanzo punched Jesse in the mouth, cutting his lip on his teeth, and earned himself a bloody nose in return. All of Hanzo's training, the years he'd spent being drilled on becoming his clan's perfect heir; none of it mattered as much as grabbing a fistful of Jesse's hair and snapping his teeth when Jesse's hands got too close. The vicious thrill as Jesse fought back just as hard made it difficult for Hanzo to care.

A hand pulled Hanzo up by his collar, yanking him to his feet. Ana was already pulling McCree away to the other side of the kitchen with strong hands around his shoulders, leaving Hanzo to Gabe's cool look of disinterest. That expression was enough to make Hanzo freeze as terror washed over him and he flinched away from Gabe's hold on him, averting his eyes.

It was like being in front of the clan elders again, struggling to explain why he had failed them. Why his studies were going poorly, why he had not found a way to bring Genji to heel. Why he hadn't yet proved himself his father's son. It was the same look they would give him as they meted out their punishment, as the whip fell across his shoulders.

Gabriel took his time assessing the room, and for a long minute the only sound in the kitchen was Hanzo and Jesse's panting. Blood dripped from Hanzo's nose, turning the blue cotton of the sleeve he pressed to his face brown and black.

"I'd have thought you knew brawling with Hanzo in the kitchen isn't what I meant by showing him around, McCree." Gabe said finally. He stepped towards Jesse and crossed his arms, raising a brow at Jesse's vicious scowl.

"Yeah, boss," Jesse grunted. He wrenched himself out of Ana's hold, ignoring whatever she murmured to him to poke at his bleeding lip. "Don't plan on makin' it a habit."

"Then something will have come of getting your ass kicked. And you, Hanzo?" Hanzo straightened as Gabe turned to him, that same mild, dangerous expression.

Hanzo opened his mouth and closed it again. A voice in the back of his head that sounded a little like Genji whined that it was Jesse that had started it but Hanzo squashed the impulse. His mouth twisted as his eyes darted over Jesse, Ana, even Fareeha standing at the edge of the kitchen. The thought that they were all like Moira — Hanzo swallowed thickly as the nausea rose in his throat.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Gabe asked again. Hanzo's hands shook as he dug his nails into his palms, waiting for his punishment. He refused to beg again.

"It was Moira," Jesse said suddenly. His tongue peeked out as he licked over his bloody teeth, and he shot Hanzo a look that was less bloodthirsty than the last one. "She was having fun pokin' his bruises, being real warm and inviting."

"She did look pleased with herself when I saw her. Figures she’d been spreading the misery. That doesn’t explain how did he end up punching you."

"Guess he decided he didn't like the shape'a my nose," Jesse said glibly, his shit-eating grin pulling at the cut in his lip.

Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as Ana sighed, but there were smiles on their faces and the tension dispersed like fog under the midday sun. Hanzo had no idea what was happening anymore. "Fine, fine," Gabe said, waving Jesse off. "So long as you worked through whatever it was?"

"Yup," Jesse said, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. He shot Hanzo another look and made an aborted gesture with his hands.

"Yes," Hanzo agreed quickly.

"Good, it'll make working together easier for the both of you."

Gabe barked a laugh at what must have been a matching pair of disbelieving faces. He looked inordinately pleased with himself for a man that had just pulled them apart, his grin showing all of his sharp white teeth. Hanzo was starting to suspect they hadn't avoided their punishment so much as Hanzo hadn't guessed the true nature of it. Gabe was more subtle than the elders — and strangely, he had earned Hanzo's respect.

"Now get out of here, since you worked through your differences. You both have jobs that don't involve getting into fistfights on my kitchen floor."

Jesse's face twisted into a moue and he looked prepared to keep arguing. Hanzo tried to grab his elbow surreptitiously, shaking his head when Jesse turned to look at him. "Ugh, fine," Jesse said, and let himself be pulled out of the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the link to Brandewyn and bouncyenvos' art! give them a reblog, won't you?  
> https://brandewynillustrations.tumblr.com/post/184206463014/my-work-for-the-mchanzo-big-bang-2019-i
> 
> http://bouncyenvos.tumblr.com/post/184211200920


	2. Chapter 2

That didn't stop McCree from complaining as soon as they were out of sight of the kitchen door. He only paused for breath, keeping up a running commentary the entire walk back to the bedroom Hanzo had slept in and which Jesse had unerringly led him back to. Hanzo didn't know whether to be impressed at his lung capacity or dismayed that they were to work together.

McCree had opened the door to the bedroom and waved Hanzo inside, helpfully pointing out the door to the sideroom Hanzo had not noticed the first time and which he was delighted to find out led to a small bathroom. Hanzo could have sobbed with relief when the water came out of the taps scalding hot and immediately filled the small room with steam. As much as Hanzo wanted to soak and have a moment to himself to think, he was mindful of Gabe's words, so he shut off the taps and reached for the showerhead instead.

The sweat had dried tacky against his skin and his bare feet were filthy from running through the meadow, to say nothing of the blood that had smeared across his face. Hanzo scrubbed it all off quickly — the sweet smelling oils were lost on him when all he could smell was blood. It was still almost cathartic though, like it was more than just dirt and soap scum swirling down the drain.

Once clean and feeling moderately more human again, Hanzo opened the door to let out the steam as he brushed his hair — he regretted it almost immediately when McCree picked up his complaints right where he'd left off.

"Don't know what Gabe expects you to do. Ain't exactly easy to tag along with what I do," he groused, sounding as though he had yet to move from the doorway. "He gets these ideas and we're all just s'posed to go along with 'em."

Hanzo rolled his eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His clothes would need to be washed, which lead Hanzo down the ludicrous path of wondering if Death did his own laundry, and he snorted as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"And they ain't all such great ideas, y'know— _oh_."

Just as he'd suspected, Jesse was leaning against the doorframe half an hour later. Hanzo raised an eyebrow at his sudden, miraculous silence. "I have already told you not to presume to tell me what I can and cannot do," he grit out. Fortunately the issue of clothes was solved when Hanzo saw the large standing wardrobe beside the bed and padded over to find inside _kimono_ and _hakama_ in various different shades all apparently in his size. It seemed he was to be provided for as one of Death's employees, and Hanzo dropped his towel as he reached for the clean clothes.

Behind him, McCree apparently choked on nothing. "That ain't— this ain't the same sorta thing. If you ain't gonna pull yer weight, I can't have you slowin' me down while I work."

Hanzo tied off his _hakama_ and slammed the wardrobe closed hard enough to make it rattle. When he looked over at Jesse, his face and neck were flushed red in ugly splotches. "What _is_ your job? And how did you find this room so easily this morning and now? And how is this wardrobe already full of clothes for me? I do not take you for a servant," Hanzo added, looking Jesse from his messy hair to his scuffed boots and wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Jesse snorted, folding his arms over his chest as he gave Hanzo a flat look. "That all, yer highness?"

Hanzo clenched his fists, focussing on the sting of his nails dipping into his palms rather than his own temper. The anger bubbled away inside of him, eager for a chance to lash out, but Hanzo was better than that. Stronger than such base, petty urges — even if Jesse McCree seemed to bring out the worst in him. "Would it make you happy, having me admit to my own ignorance? That I know nothing about this place or these people? Very well then, you win. _Now_ -"

"Do you even know why you're angry right now?" Jesse asked, tilting his head to regard Hanzo with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You were angry earlier, in the kitchen, right until Gabe showed up. Couldn't get a word outta ya and not a minute before you were arguing with me n' Ana."

Hanzo glared balefully at Jesse. "Will you answer my questions or not?"

Jesse stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Sure thing, _Lord Shimada_." Hanzo quickly muffled his noise of outrage and Jesse seemed to find that funny, if his widening smirk was any indication. "You wanted to know how the cottage works? Well, Gabe's never given me a straight answer but it sorta... responds to yer needs. Soon as you open a door, it makes a room for ya. There's a couple of places that're permanent, like the kitchen, but this room here didn't exist until you needed it. It's yours, n' so are the clothes."

That was... as ridiculous as most of this place but likewise probably the truth. "Thank you," Hanzo muttered reluctantly.

"You gotta open a door for it to work though. As for what _I_ do," Jesse said, scratching at the scruff on his cheek and frowning at the floor in consternation. "Guess you could call me a bounty hunter for Gabe. Or Death, more properly. He gives me a list of folks he needs bringing in and I do it."

"Why can't he do it," Hanzo asked, waving his hand at their surroundings. "Surely being Death gives Gabriel a way to find those people without your help?"

"These kinda folk tend to fall under my sphere of responsibility, if that makes sense." Hanzo scowled to let Jesse know that it did not, and he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "They're mean sons of bitches, every one of them, with a list of sins longer than my arm. They ain't the sort to go quiet into that good night with Gabe. So unless you have a weapon you can use, I don't know how the hell Gabe reckon's yer gonna be helping me."

Hanzo tilted his head in thought before he glanced around the room, not sure what he was looking for until he saw it. The dresser by the door was nothing special, built of solid wood and painted white. If this truly was his room however, it would hold what he needed. Hanzo stalked towards the dresser without taking his eyes from it, ignoring the confused half-sentences Jesse spluttered on his way past.

He yanked open the top drawer harder than he needed to — it was lighter than Hanzo had expected. The quiver only had two arrows but they were of exquisite craftsmanship, the kind Hanzo would have been honoured to shoot. He pulled one out to inspect the fletching and tested the point of the arrowhead against the pad of his thumb until a bead of blood welled up.

In the second drawer was a shooting glove made of soft white leather that quickly warmed against his skin when he pulled it on.  The shoulder guard and _tsurumaki_ had a swirling pattern of dragons, jaws agape and shot through with golden lightning, and all of them were finely made.

The next drawer held a pair of boots made of a material with a dull sheen, almost like kevlar, with toe picks and a reinforced heel. Hanzo hefted one up, surprised by how light it was — he could easily scale the side of any building wearing these. If he'd had any doubts as to whether Jesse was telling the truth or not, these would have put those thoughts to rest. Nobody here could know about Hanzo's training by the clan.

He placed the boot with the quiver on top of the dresser but hesitated before opening the last drawer. Hanzo blew out a slow breath through pursed lips as he pulled it open gently.

"Wow," Jesse said, sounding close. Hanzo glanced over his shoulder to see the other man peering down at the bow in the drawer, clearly impressed.

He lifted the bow from the dresser, feeling the weight of it balanced in his palm, the certainty that it had been made for him. The bow matched the arrows down to the gold highlights and burnished metal, solid but beautiful, a true work of art.

"You know how to use that?" Jesse asked.

"Yes." Hanzo preened a little at the awe in his voice, the acknowledgement that his bow was perfection. He cut a look at Jesse, the beginnings of a smirk making his lip twitch. "Will you allow me to accompany you now?"

"Figure I have to now," Jesse said wryly. "Damn, I hate when Gabe is right about these things, it ain't like he needs the ego."

"I suppose it is a thing one must deal with, when your boss is literally the figure of Death." Hanzo affected a shrug and Jesse snorted. This must be the strangest day of his life if he could joke about being in the employ of Death so easily now. "She will need a name before I can use her, it is bad luck otherwise."

"You thinkin' anything in particular?" Jesse asked, leaning up against the wall. Hanzo hummed in thought, taken with inspecting his new bow. "Got my own piece I use for bounty hunting, name's Peacekeeper. Just wait until you get a look at my gun, you'll be mighty impressed then."

"That's gross, Jesse," Fareeha announced loudly behind him. The both of them jumped like they'd been caught doing something illicit. Even knowing that they hadn't been doing untoward, Hanzo felt a blush rise on his cheeks and he quickly put down his bow.

"Christ, Fareeha, the hell'd you learn that kinda language?" Jesse asked loudly, rubbing at his chest. "You let Ana hear ya saying shit like that and she'll figure it was me. Y'want me to be skinned and made into a rug, is that it?"

"Ugh, you're so dramatic," Fareeha said, rolling her eyes with her hands on her hips. If Hanzo hadn't already suspected as much he would have known then that Fareeha was Ana's child. She was a preteen, in a simple blue dress and bare feet, and just like Ana had an air of normalcy about her. "You done getting Hanzo's stuff? Mum wants to talk to you before you guys leave."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be along in a sec now that Hanzo's got himself all pretty," Jesse grunted. Hanzo gritted his teeth to keep from punching him in the shoulder as Fareeha wrinkled her nose at the both of them. "I gotta get my own gear too but I'll be back once Ana's done with me. Don't you two miss me too much."

"Just go already, you can go back to making cow eyes at each other when I don't have to see it with my own eyeballs. _Yeugh_ ," Fareeha complained loudly. Jesse scoffed but he let himself be pushed from the room.

Hanzo watched him disappear down the corridor until he realised what he was doing and wrenched his eyes away. He pulled on his new boots and shoulder guard, slinging his new bow and quiver over his shoulder as Fareeha watched him with idle curiosity. It made him squirm, unsure if he was supposed to speak with her now that they were alone. Hanzo kept his eyes down as he fixed the _tsurumaki_ to his _obi_.

Fareeha took the opportunity to poke around his new room, pulling open the drawers of the desk and peeking into the bathroom. "Hanzo!" Fareeha said loudly, startling him again. She dropped on to the bed, testing the bounce of the mattress a couple of times and kicking her heels against the bedpost. "What's your favourite colour?"

Hanzo opened his mouth, already prepared to deny that he had a favourite, that choosing was nothing but a childish endeavour. "Why?"

Fareeha shrugged. "You're gonna be around a while, Gabe says, so we should know this kinda stuff. That's what Mum was asking, right?"

Hanzo thought about Ana's tea, and her smile, and her question. ' _Tell us about yourself, Hanzo._ ' It occurred to him that hadn't been an interrogation but an interview. Hanzo ducked his head to escape her eyes and whatever judgement he might find there. "Yellow," he said softly. "I- my favourite colour is yellow."

"That's cool. Have you ever broken any bones before?"

"Once, a few years ago. My brother and I were stuck indoors studying..."

Hanzo hadn't ever told this story to anyone before, about how he and Genji had been fooling around in a part of Shimada Castle that was being renovated and which Genji had been strictly forbidden from entering. He had been begging and pleading all morning, however. Hanzo shouldn't have let him — he should be stronger than to allow his little brother to manipulate him with forlorn sighing and promises of good behaviour he knew Genji could not keep.

But Hanzo allowed it. It had rained heavily the night before and the garden smelled of wet earth and greenery. There was something calming in the feel of rain on leaves brushing against his arms as he trailed behind his brother, who shouted with joy as though he hadn't been let outside in years. An hour or two outside would not be too much wasted time.

Hanzo should not have allowed himself to relax. The moment he took his eyes off of Genji to look at the garden and breathe, he heard his brother clambering over the lumber that was being used for the renovations. Genji had climbed higher before, under greater pressure, but the tarpaulin was slippery and Hanzo's heart leapt into his chest. He yelled at Genji to "get down, _now!_ " and started to run.

The ground was soft from the rain, however, and the mud slick from the many boots of the workers. His own foot slipped and Hanzo flailed for purchase as his other foot came down on a loose board. He hit the ground hard, his arm crumpling beneath him. Hanzo had lain stunned in the mud, not even feeling the pain immediately as he struggled to figure out how he'd ended up on his back looking up at the blue-grey sky. Genji had climbed down just fine.

"Never broken my arm," Fareeha said, picking at a loose thread in the sheets. She tilted her head. "Do you have to cut it off so they can fix it?"

"No, that would be-" Hanzo hid his smile behind his hand. "That would be very difficult to achieve. It was much simpler than that."

"What's it like having a brother?"

"I don't know, what's it like to not have a brother?" Hanzo retorted. Fareeha gave him a narrow-eyed look that had the same steel that made her mother so intimidating to talk to. "It's difficult sometimes, I suppose. Genji can be infuriating and there have been times when I have wanted to throw him bodily out of a window. But there are many more times when I'm grateful that he was there. There's very little I wouldn't do for him."

"Sounds like me n' Jesse," Fareeha said, smiling a odd little smile. Like she had a secret and was enjoying it. "Sounds like he's back too, he finally finished making himself pretty."

Heavy footsteps and a strange jingling from the corridor had Hanzo turning in time to see Jesse swagger back into view. It was clear that he'd changed again in a way that was impossible for the amount of time he'd been gone. Equally clear was that the change wasn't simple physical this time, though McCree was certainly broader in the shoulders. There was a difference in the way he carried himself — from the way he walked to the angle of his head — that gave him a presence that would have made Hanzo sit up and take notice even if he hadn't known him.

Jesse had changed into leather chaps over dark jeans, black heeled boots, and had thrown a cloak of some sort over his shoulders that only emphasised their newfound broadness. Jesse's face was hidden under a broad rimmed hat, like the cowboys in the old movies Hanzo's sometimes watched, and a cigar smouldered in his mouth. At his waist was a gaudy belt buckle in the shape of a skull with wings, patently hideous.

Just as he'd promised, Jesse also had his weapon, an enormous revolver that looked fit to break the wrist of any lesser man from kickback alone. It was like no gun Hanzo had ever seen; Jesse was like no man Hanzo had ever seen. The whole ensemble should have looked ridiculous and he tried to convince himself that it was, but the only word Hanzo could think to describe McCree in that moment was dangerous.

"There he is," Fareeha announced somewhat unnecessarily.

"Ana had something for you, Hanzo," Jesse said around his cigar as he approached, his voice lower and rougher. Hanzo once more had to pull his eyes away from Jesse's face, lit only by the glow of his cigar, to see the card he was holding out. It was made of a strange glossy material and Hanzo turned it over to see both sides were blank. His confusion must have been clear as Jesse shrugged, his eyes glinting with a strange light as he tucked his thumbs behind his belt buckle. "Don't know what it is myself but she wanted me to tell ya that she knows the bargain you struck with Gabe and that she's gonna honour it."

"Ah," Hanzo said with a sudden dawning realisation. Gabe had promised him Time, which was rightfully Ana's domain. He was fortunate then that Ana was kind, or maybe she wanted the leverage against Gabriel. Hanzo got the distinct impression they had been working together for a long time, and who knew what kind of relationship that led to. "How does it work, do you think?" he asked, bringing his mind back to the moment and the card in his hand.

"You burn it," Fareeha said, looking between the two of them. "I've seen 'em before when Mum likes people. When you need a Time, just throw it in a fire."

"I've never seen one before," Jesse muttered as Hanzo thanked her quietly and tucked the card into his _obi_. Fareeha's retort that her mother didn't like Jesse because he was 'a bad influence' on her had him clutching his chest in mock injury but smiling. Jesse McCree had many faces, Hanzo thought to himself, and he wondered how many he would have to see before he was able to figure out which was the real one.

"Damn, injurin' me like that after I made sure to grab some'a Gabe's biscochitos from the kitchen for ya-"

Fareeha scrambled off the bed and Jesse laughed as he tossed her a paper bag, which she immediately tore open to shove a sugar cookie into her face. "You're not awful all the time," she said by way of thanks, chewing loudly.

"Yer welcome, ya gremlin," Jesse said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Hanzo wouldn't have thought a man in charge of Death would have time for baking but even as he thought it he realised it sounded foolish. It left Hanzo feeling strangely wrong footed and he hoped he didn't look as flustered as he felt when Jesse turned to him, his eyes still warm. "Ana also wanted to say that she hoped ya don't think we're all like Moira."

"She's a _witch_ ," Fareeha declared. It was a shock to realise that Hanzo didn't. He couldn’t when Fareeha was brushing the crumbs from her face and dress, licking the sugar from her fingers. Hanzo could smell the aniseed and cinnamon from halfway across the room.

It spoke to Hanzo's distraction that only now did he realise he hadn't eaten anything since's he'd arrived. There were no hunger pangs though, no headaches or nausea. It wasn't hard to figure out it was another quirk of the place he'd found himself in; through the window above the desk, the star-shaped flowers swayed on their long stalks in the breeze. The sky remained the exact same colour it had been what felt like hours ago and the shadows hadn't moved an inch.

"Y'want one?" Fareeha asked, digging into the bag and pulling out a cookie to offer him. She raised her brows when Hanzo hesitated a moment too long, waving it back and forth to entice him. "Come on, they're really good! Mum's aren't half as good."

"Ah-" Hanzo started before he stopped. It would have hurt his pride less to say food from a relative stranger was not to be trusted, but truthfully the elders had always admonished Hanzo for his sweet tooth. "Thank you," he murmured, accepting the cookie though not without glancing at Jesse for his reaction.

Jesse wasn't even looking his way; he was accepting his own cookie from Fareeha's stash, plucking the cigar from his mouth to groan theatrically as he bit into the cookie. What was more surprising was that the cookie was good, Hanzo humming in pleasure as the buttery biscochito melted on his tongue, warm and sweet. Death not only found time to bake but to be good at it, apparently.

Hanzo wiped the last sugar from his hands as he peeked at Jesse again. He should say something, acknowledge at least some of what happened had happened in the kitchen now that they weren't punching each other. Hanzo struggled for the words while Jesse gave him a sideways glance that was equally wary. Fortunately they were saved from standing there indefinitely in profoundly awkward silence by Fareeha, who barrelled straight through it without heed.

"Before you go, Hanzo? Take care of Jesse, he's dumb sometimes and forgets not to let himself get hurt." Hanzo hummed, his mouth too full of biscochito to speak, while Jesse grunted in obvious offense and had to cover his mouth to keep from spitting cookie crumbs everywhere. "And he can look after you in return, it's only fair."

"I will," Hanzo said, and he surprised even himself by how much he meant it.

Fareeha gave him another enigmatic smile, though the effect was somewhat ruined when she took another enormous bit of her biscochito. Hanzo startled when Jesse clapped a hand to his shoulder while giving Fareeha a suspicious glare. "Right, let's get out of here before either of those two give you any more vague and unhelpful advice. Sound good, Han?"

Hanzo nodded, and didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sense of déjà vu. Just as with Gabriel, Hanzo focussed on Jesse's eyes as the world faded and shifted around them. They caught the light in unnatural ways, smouldering with a golden light.

The moment the world resettled around them, Hanzo flinched away. More than the awful disorientation of travelling in that manner, the wall of noise hit Hanzo like a physical blow. They'd arrived in an American city, if he had to guess, and the sounds of thousands of people talking at once with thousands of footsteps on concrete, the music and cars — it was almost too much. Hanzo clapped his hands to his ears and breathed deep as a thumping started up behind his eyes.

The hand at his shoulder squeezed and Hanzo opened his eyes to find Jesse giving him a crooked smile. Hanzo wet his lips, wincing as the midmorning sunshine slanted directly into his eyes. "When will I be able to do that without help?" he rasped, his hands moving down enough to hear Jesse's reply and even that much almost overwhelmed him.

"I'll tell you about it on the way," Jesse said. His hand slipped from Hanzo's shoulder to curl around his elbow, guiding him through the crowds. "Yer doin' a hell of a lot better my first time coming back, pretty sure I threw up all over Gabe before I passed out."

"Do not... do not discount that as a possibility," Hanzo said faintly. The nausea churned in his stomach but he swallowed it down until the feeling abated. A woman walking towards them smoothly stepped aside, her eyes sliding over the bow across Hanzo's back without pause. Hanzo squinted as he realised everyone was moving around Jesse and Hanzo without acknowledging them, as though they were invisible. Hanzo would have been fascinated but in that moment he was just thankful. "Who are we here for?" he asked instead.

"A arms dealer and war profiteer. He's gonna have a well guarded place, probably, and he ain't going down without a fight. You sure yer up to it?" Jesse looked at him with narrowed eyes, and his doubting Hanzo again rankled.

To prove that he was, Hanzo stood up straight and lowered his hands. It was exquisitely painful, the sun blinding and the noise deafening so that Hanzo could hardly think. He wanted to throw up, or curl up in a dark room until the world ceased to exist, but instead he kept marching forward.

McCree explained as they walked that they were in a middling city, sat on a tributary of the Mississippi and unremarkable save for how an arms dealer had taken up residence there. Drawn as so many others were to the devastation left by the Crisis, rather than help those who had been affected, he had grown fat from their misfortunes. And now Jesse was to bring him to justice. Once Jesse was done explaining that, he simply kept talking, just as when they’d left the kitchen.

While Hanzo breathed through the pain, Jesse provided a colour commentary of the crowds. It was easy to focus on the sound of his voice over the cacophony of noise from thousands of lives being lived — when he looked over, Jesse  was gesturing with his cigar. Sparks trailed in his wake, little fires that died in the cold air. Hanzo looked away and focused on his breathing.

The pain faded to a dull ache, akin to a hangover, and Hanzo finally had the presence of mind to wonder where they had been heading for so long. “Couldn’t you have brought us closer, when you-“ Hanzo floundered trying to describe how Gabriel and McCree had pulled him across worlds with just the grip on his hand “-when you travel, can you not choose our destination?”

“Sure can. All it takes is a little visualisation.” McCree bit down on the end of his cigar, giving Hanzo a bright eyed smile. “And now that you’re well enough to argue with me, we can head there.” He laughed at whatever look was on Hanzo’s face, which only soured further when McCree turned and started walking in the opposite direction.

As Jesse had predicted, the arms dealer's house was heavily guarded, and unlike the people in the street, knew they were coming. Hanzo bit off a noise of frustration; whether the delay had given them time to prepare it didn't matter now. He unslung the bow from his back. "What do you suggest, McCree?" Hanzo asked, eyeing the windows for an entry point. Perhaps McCree was more agile than he looked, though Hanzo doubted it.

McCree drew his gun, checking the chamber before peering at Hanzo from the shadow's under his hat. "Usually I just go charging in," he said, shrugging. "Never had one of 'em hit me anywhere vital before I could shoot back."

"Foolhardy," Hanzo spat. Fareeha's request to keep Jesse safe had seemed too easy, in hindsight.

Jesse grinned. "You wanna stand around arguing about it in the street?" Hanzo scowled at him in silence and McCree shrugged. "Suit yerself. Won't dream of telling you what to do, after all."

McCree strode away, gun in hand like a western hero of old, and Hanzo growled something foul under his breath as he watched him head straight for the front door. As much as Hanzo wanted to leave McCree to get shot, he didn't particularly savour the thought of explaining how it had happened to Gabriel. There was also a window conveniently left open on the third storey; with Jesse drawing all of the guards' attention, it would be a simple matter for Hanzo to find his arms dealer.

Hanzo cursed again as he slung his bow over his shoulder once more. He scrambled up the side of the building and dropped through the window without a sound. The bark of McCree's revolver was audible even from several floors away, as was the panicked response of the guards. Hanzo waited with his ear to the door as half a dozen men ran past, shouting orders to each other. When only the gunfire remained, Hanzo crept out on silent feet, an arrow already nocked.

Hanzo picked off any stragglers he saw, his quiver never seeming to have any more or less arrows — save for one guard. He spotted Hanzo but bolted in the other direction, somehow also dodging both arrows. when Hanzo reached for a third, his quiver came up empty. Hanzo could have chased after him, and he briefly considered it, but it felt... wrong. Hanzo rationalised that their target was the boss, not his underlings, but the churning in his stomach only settled when he turned away from the fleeing guard.

The element of surprise did not last forever. Hanzo narrowly avoided a bullet that instead exploded into the wall next to his head. He ducked into a room, tightening his grip on his bow — he had no other weapons, no other means to defend himself. That did not mean Hanzo was defenseless.

The guard tried to rush him, his footsteps thundering down the corridor, but Hanzo waited until he was almost on top of him before he struck. He swung his bow with all his might, the impact making a resounding crack before the guard dropped to the floor. Hanzo grabbed an arrow and buried it in the man's throat with a silent snarl, hot blood spurting over his wrist.

The arms dealer couldn’t hide for long and he died with an arrow between his eyes and a look of confusion. Hanzo left the body and the bodies of the guards to rejoin McCree; he simply followed the gunfire and that distinctive rapid-fire report of McCree’s Peacekeeper.

They met up in the atrium in time for Hanzo to witness McCree backlit by the midday sun, his eyes burning in the shadow of his face. " _It's high noon_ ," he intoned before McCree killed eight guards with six bullets. A bullet passed close enough that Hanzo felt the razor sharp wake, and the guard he had not seen behind him crumpled to the ground. He didn't know whether he felt chagrin that he was nearly killed or breathless astonishment that Jesse had made that shot, tipping his hat back with a smile wide and bloodthirsty.

Jesse grabbed him by the sleeve before Hanzo could decide, pulling him along behind him. "Before their friends arrive," he yelled, still grinning as they ran from the building and out on to the street. They didn't stop running until they were far, far away, and only when the thrum in Hanzo's blood had drained away to leave him lightheaded and almost giddy. He had to lean against the side of a building, the brick biting into his skin, as all around them the crowds ignored the pair of breathless, bloodstained men.

Jesse bent over next to him, gripping his knees and giggling helplessly. "Well, that went pretty well, I'd say! Didn't get shot even once."

"How you have survived this long without me is a mystery," Hanzo deadpanned, which only made Jesse laugh harder. He protested through his laughter that he had more than just his good looks. Hanzo didn't doubt it; he hadn't had a chance yet to inspect the so-called Peacekeeper but McCree had more than proven his skill with it. Like this though, Jesse red-faced with eyes bright from laughter and a toothy smile, Hanzo couldn't argue he wasn't handsome too. He looked away, an odd feeling in his chest he didn't want to look too closely at.

Hanzo was snapped out of his thoughts when Jesse reached out as though to touch his face but stopped. "You got somethin' on your face," Jesse said, tapping his own cheek.

Now that Jesse had brought his attention to it, a hot line across Hanzo's cheekbone started to sting. A piece of the wall from the near-miss, though he hadn't felt it at the time. "I am fine," Hanzo said, brushing aside McCree's concern with a wave of his hand. Hanzo frowned when he saw the dried blood still coating his hand up to his wrist. "Carelessness, though it might have been avoided had we devised a plan before charging in."

Jesse tucked his head into his collar and murmured something that sounded like, " _we_ , huh?" When he lifted his head again, he looked suitably chastened. "I hear ya, pumpkin. Next time we can make a plan."

"Thank you."

They caught their breath and then kept moving. McCree didn't seem too upset that he'd had his kill taken from him, his smile self-satisfied as he reloaded his gun with a sharp flick of his wrist. If they could maintain something like civility between them, albeit with more assassination than was usual, perhaps Hanzo could endure his indenture to Death. However long that might be.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" McCree asked, having finished with his gun's inspection and holstering it. He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops and swaggered down the street with a long-legged stride. Like he owned the whole city, like he was invincible.

Hanzo grunted and looked away. "Who to next?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Eighteen Months Later**

They routed the gang from their hideout in the collapsing ruins of a German town. It seemed a strange place for gun runners but McCree explained with a grim expression that the town's people had left in a hurry some thirty years ago and never come back. Hanzo couldn't understand why; the buildings were still mostly intact, save one or two with collapsed roofs, and the Black Forest around them was lush and green.

He stumbled when he saw the first of the hulking shapes laying in a crater that had shattered the main street. Lichen had grown over the cold steel chassis, grasses flowered in the cracks and joints, but it was still recognisably a Bastion unit. Even the sight of the omnic's corpse sent a shiver down Hanzo's spine, and the abandoned town looked very different afterwards. What he had thought were holes left by nature and small animals now clearly were pock marks left by a semi-automatic rifle.

There were more Bastions and around each a scene of destruction; an omnic loomed in the doorway of a pub, another crushed the bonnet of a car. The gun runners had not touched them except to salvage what parts they could sell, and something about that made outrage burn white hot in the pit of Hanzo's stomach. He had no love for the omnics, and especially not the merciless killers the Bastions had been, but they should be removed and the people brought back.

Instead the town had been allowed to be reclaimed by the forest while the Bastions, once they were of no more use to anyone, left to rot in homes left empty.

Few gang members escaped Hanzo's arrows or Jesse's bullets that day and it did much to improve his black mood. McCree had clearly noticed, giving Hanzo a long look out of the corner of his eye as he spun Peacekeeper's chamber into place before holstering it. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked, tone carefully neutral. McCree had yet to be very affected by the criminals they were sent to kill, whose crimes made even Hanzo flinch.

Hanzo cast his eyes over the town and then up to the castle on the hill, the cold stone facade presiding over everything. "No." Jesse gave him a look decidedly less neutral, his always present cigar coming dangerously close to falling from his gaping mouth. Hanzo scowled at him, tipping his chin up to glare down the length of his nose. "I want to stay in this town a while longer. Is that acceptable?" Nothing could be done for the town’s people but Hanzo could learn something of them.

Jesse scratched at the back of his head, squinting in thought. "Don’t usually hang around after I’m finished but I don’t think it’s not _not_ allowed?” He shook his head. “It’s fine, what were ya wanting to do?”

Hanzo wasn’t sure, but the starting place was obvious. He strode down the main street towards the castle and after a moment heard a jingle of spurs as McCree followed.

The Bastions became more numerous closer to the castle, along with larger omnics Hanzo had no name for. The bridge to the main entry into the castle had survived the battle, built from solid stone the same grey as the castle, but the doors had not. Splinters of wood were all that remained after the entryway had been destroyed by a massive explosion, flinging pieces of the heavy stone archway inside. The red carpet in the hall sent up plumes of dust under Hanzo’s feet and he wondered why the gang had chosen to set up down the hill instead, until they reached the throne room.

The only human remains they had found sat slumped on the throne, their weapon still in reach, the rusted remains of their enemies at their feet. Hanzo wondered if anyone was alive who remembered their sacrifice. He turned to speak to Jesse, to ask perhaps or simply to wonder, but Jesse wasn't looking his way. The muscle ticked in the corner of his jaw as he bit down on his cigar hard, the skin around his eyes tight.

“You have been here before,” Hanzo said, certain of it. Jesse nodded, determinedly not looking at the front of the throne room as he declined to elaborate. Words failed Hanzo, standing there for a long moment with his mouth agape hoping something would fall out and that it would be the right thing to say. When nothing did, Hanzo closed his mouth and nodded stiffly. Perhaps the kindest thing would be to ignore whatever this was.

Hanzo marched back to the entrance, his footsteps loud — too loud, it disturbed something of the tomb-like stillness. But Jesse snorted and followed after him. When the jingle of his spurs stopped, Hanzo risked a glance behind him and saw two armoured figures standing in front of the fallen warrior.

Like knights paying tribute to their fallen lord, one laid a token on the throne as the other turned to Jesse and Hanzo. Even through their helmet their gaze was arresting; they only looked away when their companion stepped away from the throne. The knights walked away from the throne, their tread heavy on the flagstones, and between one step and the next they vanished.

Hanzo startled when Jesse gripped his elbow. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he said lowly before pulling Hanzo away.

"Who was that?" Hanzo asked in a hushed voice.

"Couple'a folks with more claim to the place than us. I'll introduce you next time." They left the castle and walked back down the hill, seemingly in no hurry to head to their next job. The wind had since picked up and brought with it a dark bank of rainclouds that turned the sky black over the Black Forest. The storm was some distance from the town but Hanzo could smell wet earth and greenery, and he didn't realise he was smiling until Jesse shot him a strangely lingering look. "What's got you lookin' all pleased?" he asked.

"I enjoy storms, I always have," Hanzo said slowly, ducking his head. "I would sit up as a child to watch them late into the night, and in the morning would explore the gardens as though they were entirely new. Or I did until I was forbidden to by my family." The wind pulled Hanzo's hair from his tie and whipped it back into his face, and by the time Hanzo had retied his hair, Jesse had looked away to the forest and the rain. In the distance came the roll of thunder, a distant growl that made Hanzo gasp as his whole body buzzed with an electric feeling just beneath his skin. He'd missed the rain like an old friend.

When Jesse spoke again, Hanzo startled. He'd forgotten his friend was even there. "Y'know, you don't talk about yourself a whole lot. Not much of a talker," he added with a wry little grin.

"Oh." Hanzo was not surprised; what did he have worth sharing? "What is it you wish to know?"

Jesse scowled and pulled his cigar from his mouth, throwing it to the cobblestones. He ground the stub beneath his heel with more force than it warranted. "Forget it, forget I said a goddamned thing," he bit out.

It was not as though they had a lot of opportunity to talk about things other than their next target, spending most of their time travelling or planning. If there was silence, Jesse usually filled it with mindless chatter and hadn't seemed to expect Hanzo to answer. He'd never pushed for a response from Hanzo and Hanzo had thought Jesse didn't care.

Hanzo kept looking at him, the stiff line of Jesse's shoulder and the frustrated grinding of his teeth. Time worked differently for them. Hanzo was never quite sure when they jumped places if they would arrive at the same time they had left, or even the same season. By his estimation, they hadn't taken more than a day to rest in months.

Perhaps they could take some time. This was not a job they could take breaks from, a voice reminded Hanzo, but he wanted to. It came as a surprise just how much Hanzo wanted that, to take some time with McCree and fill it with talking. He thought Jesse might like that too, and the thought made his chest tighten and his face tingle as he blushed. But the moment he opened his mouth something about McCree's face stopped him, a sudden sharpening of his gaze over Hanzo's shoulder.

Hanzo turned, expecting the knights from the throne room. He did not expect to see a woman more interested in the nearest Bastion unit, sat on the remains of the omnic as she poked around inside its chassis. How neither of them had noticed her until that moment given she was dressed entirely in bright purple baffled Hanzo. She must have just appeared — judging by the look Jesse was giving her, they were already acquainted.

"Did Gabe send ya?" Jesse demanded, hands on his hips. His scowl was every bit as ferocious as the one he'd levelled at Hanzo, the first time they'd met.

The woman looked up from her rummaging in the omnic, a handful of wires in her hand. "Why, you got something to hide, _vaquero_?" Jesse made a cut off noise, his expression darkening further, but the woman only had eyes for Hanzo. "Like a new partner? I thought you worked best solo, a lone rider, one against the many—"

"I get yer point, Sombra," Jesse grunted. "So why _are_ you here?"

"Let's start with an introduction." Sombra disappeared in a flash of purple light and reappeared in front of them. Hanzo had to take a step back as she leaned in, her eyes glittering and her grin sharp. "Hi there, I'm Sombra. So, are you like his sidekick or something?"

Hanzo pressed his lips into a thin line to keep from laughing at the offended noise Jesse let out, like an angry cat. He allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up in a smile though as he retorted, "it would be more accurate to say he is mine."

Sombra cackled in delight. "Oh, I like you. They plannin' on keeping you around?"

It was small, but Hanzo could see Jesse's dour expression crack enough allow his own small smile to shine through. Hanzo raised an eyebrow and gestured at Sombra, which Jesse responded to with an exaggerated eyeroll and a sigh. "Hanzo, this is Sombra. Sombra, Hanzo," he said like it pained him to do so. "She works with me n' Gabe sometimes when she ain't busy causing trouble. Her Duty is Death of Electronics."

Hanzo blinked, his eyebrows shooting up to his forehead. "Electronics do not die."

"Life's just electrical impulses," Sombra said with a shrug. She lifted up a hard drive and waggled it, the wires still hanging from it swaying back and forth. "From where I'm standing, you're no different to the Bastion back there, 'cept trying to save your brain would be a lot messier."

"Let's not pretend you're doing this out of the goodness of yer heart, now, you're saving 'em to sell to the highest bidder." Jesse gave her a long look from under his hat, sticking his thumbs in his belt loops as he leaned back on his heels. "That's what you're here for, isn't it. Only question is, what's on offer?"

Sombra didn't answer beyond pointing towards the Black Forest with a coy little smile. Jesse stubbornly refused to look but Hanzo squinted at the stormclouds moving away towards the east and then down towards the treeline. Dead Bastions littered the ground before the forest, along with the trees they had felled during their advance. Nothing seemed out of place — until a Bastion unit moved. Hanzo held his breath, praying he was mistaken, but one of the huge omnics trundled away into the trees. "No..." Hanzo took a step forward before he glanced back.

He was never so grateful for McCree's sharp eyes as he spotted Hanzo's panic immediately. "What is it?" he asked, his hand already drifting towards his gun.

"Better get running, _amigos_!" Sombra sing-songed, waving her fingers before disappearing another purple flash.

Hanzo took off running, trusting Jesse to follow. There was no sign of the omnic when they reached the edge of the forest, the cobblestones of the town giving way to grass and springy moss. Hanzo kept running — there were only so many routes an enormous Bastion unit could take through the trees so they followed the deer paths, the valleys between the oaks and pines.

"Hanzo!" McCree called from behind him. Hanzo didn't have the breath to spare to answer.

They burst through the trees into a clearing, out of breath and terrified of what they'd find. What they found sat in the middle of a soft patch of grass, as raindrops glittered in the sun and butterflies fluttered over the flowers, looked like a Bastion unit. However, it acted like no omnic Hanzo had ever seen, so different from even the servant omnics in Shimada castle. This omnic was chirping gently at the yellow bird perched on its shoulder, where it appeared to be making a nest in the moss that had grown over its chassis. The Bastion offered the little bird a twig, its movements careful as it placed its offering on the nest.

Hanzo's reverie was broken when he heard Jesse move behind him, his footsteps heavy on the forest floor. "Jesse, wait—"

"That's a _Bastion_ —" Jesse started, already pulling his serape aside to reach for his gun.

Hanzo grabbed his wrist without thinking, squeezing when Jesse scowled at him. There's a long, tense moment as they look at each other — Hanzo hadn't realised how close they were standing. All he can see are Jesse's burning bright eyes, the crease in his nose as he frowned. "You are being hasty," Hanzo said eventually, quieter than he meant to. "It has done nothing wrong."

"This ain't a case of innocent until proven guilty," Jesse grit out, jerking his hand away. Hanzo's fingers immediately felt cold. "I know exactly what that thing's capable of. I've _seen_ it. I've watched as a squadron of them murdered a whole town and moved on to the next like it was nothing."

"And this?" Hanzo asked. He gestured to the omnic as it whistled what sounded like laughter, the bird flitting around its head. "Did you know they were capable of this?"

"I don't know what this is," Jesse admitted. He pushed his hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew, but he didn't try to grab his gun again. "Does it make a difference?"

The servant omnics that worked in Shimada castle were cold, detached from the living creatures they served; maybe because they knew their masters carried knives and arrowheads that could fatally overload their systems. The elders had always described it as neutralising a threat, should the omnics ever rise against them again, but Hanzo saw little difference in a knife slipped between the ribs of a man or omnic. The end result would be the same.

To Hanzo, it made all the difference in the world. "Yes." Perhaps it was foolish to look at a creation of rogue AIs and think it could ever act outside of its programming. Perhaps it was even more foolish to think Hanzo himself could act against everything he had been taught. But he wouldn't hurt that omnic. "They deserve a second chance."

"Fuck, Hanzo, it ain't a _person_." Jesse's face twisted up in a horrid, unnameable expression, his teeth bared in what was closer to a grimace than a snarl. Like he was more scared than angry. "It doesn't feel things like remorse. It's a machine, with the sole purpose of killing as many people as its got bullets for. The hell are you even thinkin', giving a thing like that the benefit of the doubt?"

"Something is different about them," Hanzo insisted. "Killing them would not be right."

" _It ain't always about what's right._ " Jesse's eyes went wide the moment the words left his mouth, his teeth snapping shut with an audible click. The silence yawned wide between them, and Hanzo could only stare back. Jesse looked away first, cursing under his breath. "Sometimes you gotta do the wrong thing for the right reasons. It ain't always about what's fair."

"Careful, Jessito, I'm gonna remember that for next time," Sombra remarked, lounging against a tree like she'd been there all along. "But as interesting as I find the little ethics debate you got going, I'd take cover if I were you."

The clearing filled with the rapid, panicked beating of wings. The Bastion was up and rapidly scanning about, its optics a glaring red and ominously silent save for the whirring of old joints as they raised their machine gun; Jesse grabbed Hanzo by the arm before the optics could focus on them. They made it to the cover of the trees a moment before the Bastion transformed into a turret and opened fire.

Jesse pulled Hanzo into the protective curve of his body, his head tucked into Jesse's chest as Hanzo clutched at his serape. The forest exploded around them in the hail of bullets, deafening Hanzo to everything but his own heartbeat loud in his ears. It only lasted a handful of seconds but the silence in the wake of the gatling gun seemed to echo through the Black Forest, lingering among the trees the bullets had ripped through.

"You OK?" Jesse murmured, lips almost brushing his ear. Hanzo could feel the rumble of his voice where he was pressed against him.

"Has it stopped?"

Jesse took a step back and peered back into the clearing. His hand went to his gun and this time Hanzo did not stop him. "Think so," he said cautiously, and tellingly kept Peacekeeper aimed at the ground. Hanzo walked over to join him — and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sombra reappear from around a tree.

The trees unfortunate to have been in front of the Bastion had been reduced to ragged stumps — it was only good luck and Sombra's timely intervention that had kept Jesse and Hanzo from a similar fate. The Bastion still squatted in the middle of the clearing, unmoving with the shell casings littering the ground around them. The lights of their optics flickered between red and blue, though what exactly that meant Hanzo couldn't say.

"What the hell even triggered that?" Jesse asked of the world at large. He kept his feet braced on the forest floor, a hand raised in case he needed to grab Hanzo again.

"Electrical impulses," Sombra answered helpfully as the Bastion reverted; their chassis shuddered like a sigh, like a release, and their optics settled on blue. The omnic was no less dangerous like this but Sombra didn't seem concerned as she sauntered up to the Bastion. "Input A producing Outcome B should be simple, but even computers make bad connections sometimes. They can be hell to break, even when Situation X changes into Situation Y and Outcome B is no longer desired or logical."

The Bastion stared at the machine gun on their arm, the smouldering casings filling the air with the smell of burning hot metal, and then up to the butchered trees. An almost childlike realisation of what they had done — the gun went limp at their side as their optics tilted down, the Bastion drooping. Sombra crouched down in the shell casings, brushing them aside to hold up a single bright yellow feather. She offered it up to the Bastion and after a moment they took it with a forlorn-sounding _bweep_.

"Not desired," Hanzo said, looking over at Jesse. His mouth was twisted, like he had already guessed what Hanzo was about to say, but he still allowed him to say it. "Such an outcome seems like a cause for remorse."

"Even accidentally, its gonna hurt someone," Jesse said almost gently. Looking at the forest around them, Hanzo couldn't disagree, as much as he wanted to rail against the unfairness of it all.

"I think that's why I'm here," Sombra said, having not looked away from the omnic. "If you gotta put them down, I can rescue their brain. Maybe I can even figure out how they got moving again."

"Perhaps I was naive," Hanzo murmured. Was that not part of what the elders had taught him, in all of his training as scion for the Shimada-gumi? What Gabe had tried to tell him when Hanzo had refused to let him take Genji? "If this is what is necessary, I shall not stop you."

It felt like a defeat but worse, a dishonourable surrender — Hanzo tried not to let it show on his face. It was harder reaching for the porcelain mask than it used to be, the difference he used to shield his true emotions. Jesse's face fell and he started to speak, "sweetheart, I—" when rustling from the forest drew their attentions.

Jesse grasped Hanzo's wrist, but the only thing that waded out of the forest was a young woman, brushing the leaves from her hair as she glanced around the clearing. "Oh thank goodness, I thought you had left already!" she said, sounding remarkably cheerful for someone who had traversed the forest in an enormous suit of armour, with an equally huge mace and shield strapped to her back.

"Hola, Brigitte!" Sombra said, twisting around to give her a little wave. The omnic waved as well and offered a _boo-wheep_ in greeting.

"Oh my gosh, is that a SST Laboratories E54 Bastion?" Brigitte gasped, looking strangely delighted. She trotted over to the omnic with a wide grin, her cheeks dimpling charmingly. "I haven't seen a functional unit since the Crisis!'

"I know, right?" Brigitte and Sombra immediately dove into an in-depth conversation about how the Bastion could have come back online — judging by the way their optics kept looking from one to the other, the Bastion could make as much sense of their conversation as Hanzo.

"Is this another Death I should know?" Hanzo asked under his breath.

Jesse huffed — he was still holding Hanzo's wrist, the calluses on his palm warm on Hanzo's skin, his thumb pressed to his pulse point. "Nah, that's just Brigitte. She was with Reinhardt earlier in the castle." Hanzo hummed, only now recognising the armour. "I never got a straight answer on what either of them do — they don't work for Gabe. If I had to guess, she's all about committing yourself to a cause, duty in the truest sense of the word. I guess y'could say she's Reinhardt's squire, helps him out and patches him up after. She's like Rein's little shadow, always has been. Dunno why she's here now."

"And what of Reinhardt? That was the other knight we saw, correct?"

"Yeah, that was him. Reinhard has always been about physical strength and using that for the benefit of others, being a shield as ya probably guessed from all the armour. Live with honour, die with glory."

Jesse's smile twists into a sardonic little smirk, an ugly light in his eyes, and Hanzo felt like he was missing the joke. He turned to Jesse and gently squeezed the hand still holding his wrist. Rather than comfort him though, Jesse snatched his hand back like he'd been burned. Before he could apologise, or Hanzo could explain, Brigitte called to them. They turned as one to her, Hanzo's face heating as though they had been caught doing something untoward.

"Sombra says you guys are figuring out what to do with this unit. Well, how about I bring him along with me?"

Hanzo sucked in a breath as it felt like his heart squeezed in his chest. However, Jesse crossed his arms and levelled a scowl at Brigitte. "Absolutely not. I ain't letting you leave with something that can kill you."

Brigitte rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna bring him to Pappa. He's the only one that could reconfigure his protocols. He designed the E54 Bastions, this is their only hope."

"Please." The word escaped Hanzo before he could stop it. Jesse stared at him with another of those strange looks, his eyes glittering in that way they seemed to sometimes. And he agreed.

After Brigitte and the Bastion left together, and Sombra winked and disappeared again, Hanzo and Jesse made their way back to the edge of the forest. The thunder grew fainter as the sunlight broke through the leaves in golden-white shafts. The clouds, purple-black like bruises and heavy with rain, continued their crawl across the sky.

The silence could have been all-encompassing but Hanzo felt light with relief, his face and chest warm as he smiled at Jesse as though he held the sun in his eyes. "Are there any over Deaths I should know about?" he asked with a small grin.

Jesse blinked at him, his mouth parted a little in surprise, before he seemed to realise and turned away. "There's a Death of Rodents but Hammond's based in Australia and doesn't leave much. Mostly hangs out with Famine — Junkrat and Roadhog only come by very rarely even though Gabe is technically their boss. Don't know them like I know Brig and Reinhardt." He laughed, scratching the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. "Make me feel like an old man thinking about it, knowing them for years. Hell, decades!"

Hanzo found himself nodding until he paused, coming to a stop beside a fallen tree as he considered exactly how many decades. It was clear Gabe and Ana had been in the role as Death and Time for some considerable time, as had the others with Duties he had met. The implications for Jesse made a chill course through Hanzo. He was scared to ask but not for his own sake, and the realisation made him frown.

"Hey, Hanzo?"

"Yes?" Hanzo said, snapped out of his thoughts.

Jesse rubbed at the back of his neck again, his smile an awkward little quirk at the corner of his lips. "I gotta go to Gabe's, shouldn't be long. I'll meet you at the Bar?"

This would not be the first time they had travelled separately, but something about his hesitation made Hanzo's brow draw together tighter. "Of course," Hanzo said after a beat. "Do not rush on my account."

"You gonna be—?"

"I will be fine," Hanzo snapped, harsher than he meant to. The warmth was gone, leaving only cold irritation in its place. If Jesse wanted to speak to his boss without Hanzo hovering over his shoulder, he could do as he pleased. "Go then."

"Alright," Jesse said, drawing out the word. When Hanzo said nothing else, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached, Jesse nodded. Between one second and the next, he was gone too.

A clear mind was needed when they travelled the way they did, without moving but somehow able to cross dimensions. Hanzo took several slow, deep breaths as he tried to push away everything. Five minutes later he was still stood at the edge of the German forest, and when McCree's face floated into his mind's eye again, he snapped. Hanzo lashed out, kicking at the fallen trees in a fit of pique. He cursed at the tree, at Jesse McCree, at his own thoughts for betraying him. All he accomplished was bruising his foot.

Hanzo threw himself down on to the log with a last curse, because he could, and the trees held the echo so well. "Fuck!"

"Lover's spat?" Sombra asked, faux-concern dripping from her voice. Hanzo scowled as she gave him a little wave, sauntering over until she stopped in front of his log. "Hey there, can't help but notice you didn't leave with him and I don't think it was so you could admire the scenery."

Her lips pursed and Hanzo got the distinct impression she was trying not to laugh at him. He clenched his jaw and turned away, even as a traitorous little voice whispered that Sombra knew Jesse, probably better than Hanzo did. Hanzo swallowed down the jealousy and felt it burn all the way down to his stomach. "We are headed to different destination but will meet up later," Hanzo said, his tone so clipped every word left his mouth bleeding.

"That's good, 'cause I really meant it when I said Jesse doesn't usually have partners. Not since Ashe, anyway." If Sombra expected Hanzo to ask who or what Ashe was, she was sorely disappointed. She sighed and took a seat on a fallen tree across from him, after wrinkling her nose at the rotten wood. "I'm a businesswoman, you know. I trade in secrets. So, I tell you a secret and get a secret in return. Sound fair?"

"You have no information I am interested in."

Sombra barked a laugh, her smirk utterly self-assured. "How about an open secret? Most folks come into our line of business after an uncomfortably close brush with dear Gabriel. They beg for their life, he makes them a deal, they get a Duty and spend the next few millenia doing his dirty work." Sombra waved her hand, as though the idea of working for Death was easily dismissed.

Hanzo stayed defiant for a moment longer before his shoulders slumped. "I had hoped..." Hanzo shook his head, as it should have made no difference to him if Jesse was dead or half-dead. It shouldn't _matter_ if Jesse had been Death's bounty hunter for ten years or ten thousand. Hanzo wanted to deny the strange disappointment that squeezed at his lungs — this was never supposed to be about him.

"If wishes were horses," Sombra said with a shrug. "If you don't like it, take it up with the big man himself."

Hanzo let out an ugly laugh. "That is how I came to be in this situation. When Gabriel tried to take my brother, I threatened him with a knife."

Sombra stared at him for a beat before bursting into peals of laughter. "I knew I'd like you!" she crowed. "You're the best thing that's happened around here in _years_. A knife! What exactly where you hopin' for? But hey, that gives you a better exit plan than most."

A shock raced down Hanzo's spine, making hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Exit plan?" he said faintly.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, still giggling and occassionally repeating "a _knife_ " in something like admiration. "Sure, _amigo_ ," she wheezed eventually. "When I said take it up with Gabe, I meant your deal. Tell him you want out."

Hanzo bolted to his feet. " _What?_ " His heart was thumping in his chest like the gatling gun — if he could return to Genji, if Jesse and Hanzo could _leave_ —

Sombra's smirk instantly grew sharp and predatory as she wagged a finger at Hanzo. "Looks like I _do_ have that secret you wanted. I've already given you one freebie, don't get greedy."

She looked not unlike the businesswomen Hanzo had dealt with, working for the clan. It felt like a lifetime ago but he grasped at the familiarity, straightening his spine as he gave her a cool look. "Very well," Hanzo said, tucking his hands behind his back to hide the shaking. "What secret would you ask of me?"

Sombra pondered it for a moment before she grinned. "How about you tell me what your Duty is supposed to be? Because I know Ashe's and you couldn't be further from Calamity. You haven't even set off any explosions since I've been here, or threatened me with that pretty bow of yours."

"I..." Hanzo ducked his head. Took a deep breath. "I do not know. I do not even know McCree's for certain."

He regretted saying it the moment it left his lips, but Sombra immediately latched on to it. "He's real ashamed of it, and Jessito isn't ashamed of much. I don't think there's anything wrong with being good at what you do, and doing what you're good at, but him and me don't always see eye to eye." She gave him a long look, her nails tapping against her knee.

"I thought he worked as Justice," Hanzo said quietly, his shoulders sinking. It had seemed to be the logical choice; they killed criminals, men and women who had committed unspeakable cruelty. He'd been so certain of it, even as Jesse had failed to mention it, until that moment in the forest. There was no justice in killing that Bastion. "He has... evaded the question in the past."

"That's not my secret to tell," she said simply, her smile enigmatic. "A secret nobody knows? That just means somebody isn't sharing, _tch_ , how selfish. Just means I have to work a little hard, so we'll just say we're square — I needed that laugh. You wanna know how to get out? Lucky for you, I know just the person." Sombra grinned and held out her hand.

Hanzo hesitated only a moment before he placed his hand in his. He expected the forest to slide away, fade to grey before it came back into focus someplace else. Instead it seemed to sizzle before it exploded into light — Hanzo flinched back but Sombra's hand was solid in his, and he heard her cackling for the long moments before the world came back into view. Hanzo blinked the static from his eyes, pulling his hand back to rub the tingles from his fingers. "Where are we?" he asked.

It looked like Sombra had deposited them on a street in a European town — possibly France, judging by the street signs Hanzo could see. It was peaceful, with only a sleepy bird tweeting somehwere in the distance as the sky deepened to a dark purple, those last moments before night tightened its hold. The house Sombra pointed to had warm, golden light glowing in the windows. "An old friend lives there, she'll answer all your questions."

"Thank you," Hanzo said, dipping at the waist in a shallow bow. Sombra laughed again — by the time Hanzo stood up she was gone, the purple light already fading. He turned to the house and let his feet carry him to the front door before he could overthink it. 

"Just a moment!" someone called from inside after Hanzo knocked. He listened to the sound of shuffling, his arms stiff at his sides and his nerves buzzing with something like anticipation and utter terror. The door opened and a blonde woman squinted at Hanzo. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with—?" She stopped where she was pushing her messy hair back from her face, her eyes widening in horror. And then she slammed the door in Hanzo's face.

"I'm here to—" he tried calling through the door.

"I don't care what Gabriel wants!" she yelled back. Hanzo took a step closer to the door. "I made my position perfectly clear before and I'll not repeat myself to his newest peon!"

"Please!" Hanzo begged. "I, I am friends with Jesse! And was told you were the only one who could answer my questions." The woman didn't respond and Hanzo leaned his forehead against the door. "I want to help him," he said quietly. "I want to help _us_."

The woman was silent for so long Hanzo almost gave up and started looking for a window to climb in through. When the door inched open again, he scrambled back, hope rising in his chest. She squinted at him suspiciously, dark circles in her eyes like bruises, before she opened the door wider. "You had better come in," she said, her mouth twisted down in a reluctant moue. "The sooner you explain yourself, the sooner you can leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little late, my apologies! i'm working on getting this fic finished up and all posted soon. thank u for ur patience <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight addition to the tags, please read them and take care! anyway, this chapter is a little shorter as i needed to wrap this bad boy up. i might revisit this au again later, who knows.

Angela Ziegler was a good host, even reluctantly. Hanzo was ushered into her kitchen and pointed towards a chair at the kitchen table while Angela went to make them coffee, as she stated flatly that they were both going to need it. Hanzo accepted a mug, a cartoon cat on the side announcing it was 'looking good, feline good', but declined the whiskey she offered. Angela shrugged and poured a generous amount into her own mug, which implored Hanzo to 'trust me, I'm a doctor'.

They sat opposite each other at her kitchen table while Hanzo explained everything, from the very beginning. Listening to himself recount how he had met Gabe at his brother's deathbed, agree to work with Jesse McCree, and the months they had worked together as partners was no less strange for having lived it. Angela listened patiently, her face perfectly calm throughout, and when he was finished she downed the last of her coffee and declared loudly, "fuck."

Hanzo could only grimly agree. "Sombra said—"

"Sombra says a lot of things and only half of it makes sense. She enjoys being cryptic, I think she gets a kick from it."

"She has that in common with a lot of the people I have met," Hanzo retorted.

Angela sighed and got up to get more coffee. "I should have known it was too much to hope I could retire into obscurity," she muttered. The urge to apologise was new and largely unwelcome. Angela clattered around her kitchen, muttering invectives at everyone she seemed to think of, while Hanzo swirled the last dregs of his coffee. She rejoined him at the table and Hanzo glanced up to see her looking very serious and very, very tired. Angela rubbed at her temples. "Gott in Himmel, where do I even start? Since Sombra conveniently failed to mention it — I used to have a Duty. I do not anymore."

"How?" Hanzo blurted out. "How did you accomplish it? Can another do so?"

Angela quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't you curious at all as to why I left? Why give up my Duty when it grants near immortality and the ability to go wherever I please?" Hanzo was quiet as she took a long sip, and when Angela started she curiously started at the end. She had been Mercy, years ago, and had worked for Gabriel for almost two centuries. She had thought she was doing the best she could to help others, until she came to see otherwise. As one with a Duty, they changed nothing, simply carrying out their roles without regard for if they were right. 

It was too high a price, to watch without being able to truly help, and she had told Gabriel she wanted to break their agreement. The grim smile Angela gave Hanzo told him all he needed to know about how well that conversation likely went. I the end, Gabriel could not stop her from leaving. "Though he tried. He sent Jesse after me to try and convince me. My oldest friend," she added softly. "I'm not able to travel the world in a blink anymore but I can at least be certain that the change I effect is real. I am contented."

"When we first met, I think he thought I was there to take your role," Hanzo said with a wry little smile.

Angela laughed. "I imagine he was not very welcoming."

"I ended up punching him in the throat." Hanzo shrugged while Angela rolled her eyes and tsked. "He was... different. He looked like a child but he's obviously not. Why—?"

"Jesse never told me why it happens, but I have my suspicions." Angela tilted her head, smiling sadly. "He made his deal with Gabriel when he was young — too young to be holding a gun. Maybe it's a way of reclaiming a little piece of that boyhood when he can? All I know for certain is that the circumstances that lead up to his brush with Death were violent, horrifically so."

Hanzo thought about the boy he had seen, running up to greet Gabe with a grin, and his stomach rolled. He had seen Jesse gun down a room full of men without flinching — something that was only possible through long practice. It was not unlike the training the elders had given him, Hanzo realised with a start. As their heir, Hanzo had been trained to kill from childhood and expected to use that training before he could be called an adult. Because they were his family, and it was expected of him. Because it was a duty no different than the one Gabe had given Jesse.

Hanzo was wrong to ever think Gabriel was gentler than his family. "Gabriel didn't mention a price," Hanzo said quietly.

"He wouldn't, his lies are always of omission. Make no mistake though, we all lose something and it only ever gets worse. I dare say Gabe doesn't remember Jack at all now." Angela gave Hanzo a tired smile. "If you're here, that means you cannot stand to pay it either. So tell me, Hanzo; what price are you paying?"

Hanzo opened his mouth, prepared to reply that he didn't know, but he stopped short. Jesse's hand on his wrist, before he pulled away. His sunlight eyes and the tentative smile that had crumpled like wet paper as Hanzo had pushed him away. His realisation on that hilltop, as he'd looked at Jesse and wanted so much, so many impossible things.

"I am in love with Jesse McCree, and..." Hanzo struggled, the feeling too raw to voice with only clumsy words. He forced them out, his eyes on the bitter dregs of his own coffee. "And we have no future."

Angela placed a soft hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Hanzo. That's a cruel price to pay."

Hanzo swallowed heavily. "I thought this was a lifetime appointment, that this was to be my life from now until..."

"The heat death of the universe? I suppose it can be. You could continue for a couple of centuries and know that nothing will change between you, if that's what you want."

"No," Hanzo said immediately. "No, this is no kind of life."

"I thought not. I tried to convince Jesse to leave with me — that's when he told me he'd been dying after losing his arm." Hanzo screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately not to imagine the scene. Jesse dying, alone and scared, and taking the one chance he'd been offered. "It was not painless when I left either, you should know," Angela added. "The patient I was trying to save when I met Gabriel died when I returned."

Hanzo peered up at her. "That patient — you mean they had not already died?"

"Ah, that's the benefit of working for Death, I suppose. I resumed my life the moment I had departed it."

"No..." Hanzo whispered, his grip on his mug tightening until his whole arm ached. "Gabe promised me..."

"What exactly did he say?" Angela said, her eyes sharp in a way that reminded him eerily of Ana. "What precisely did he promise you?"

"Time. As much as I wanted."

Angela muttered another string of curses and dragged a hand through her hair. "Gabriel loves to be tricky with his words," she grit out "Worse though, it's technically true — you can break your agreement any time you wish, and then Gabe will deposit you back where and when he found you."

It felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the kitchen. His lungs burned, but even as Hanzo gasped desperately he couldn't breath, couldn't get rid of the feeling like his chest was being crushed. He'd felt this before, when his doctors had told him Genji was dying. When they'd told him nothing more could be done for him, and the same thought raced through his mind now as it did then.

"No. There has to be something I can do." Hanzo expected the same response, the same gentle condescension. As though he was simply in denial and would soon realise their truth. "There is still hope."

Angela surprised him though; she gave him a wide smile, looking more lively than she had the entire time Hanzo had been in her home. She looked revitalised, and Hanzo understood then why she had left. Her gaze sharpened and she got up from the kitchen table. When Angela returned, she had a notebook in hand. "Tell me, what's the exact time and date of your brother's death?" Hanzo told her and she quickly scribbled it down before frowning, chewing on the pencil eraser in thought. "That doesn't give us a lot of time, but if we act quickly and are very, very lucky..."

"What? What are you planning to do?"

"The organisation I currently work for, we have the technology that can save Genji. Unfortunately, you didn't give us much time to work with." She looked down at her watch, then turned to squint at the wall calendar beside her fridge. Hanzo hadn't noticed it before and his breath froze again — it was the same month he had left.

"What day is it?" he asked urgently, jerking around to look at Angela typing away on a comm. " _What day?_ "

"It's the tenth — we have a little over sixteen hours," she said, her tone completely pragmatic. She looked up from her comm and her face softened, and she reached out to touch Hanzo's arm again. "While there's still a chance, we mustn't waste it. I will do my absolute damnedest to save your brother, Hanzo, I promise you. In return, please, save Jesse."

"How?" Hanzo asked faintly. It was a secret exactly when Jesse had died — but somebody would know. Hanzo considered finding Sombra and begging her for another favour, or perhaps _Ana_ — "I know how I can find out."

"I knew you could," Angela said with a spark in her eyes. "You didn't look like someone who could be stopped by a little thing like wanting the impossible. Now go, I need to plan how I'm gonna save Genji."

"Thank you," Hanzo said, the emotion thick in his throat. He placed his mug on the kitchen table and stood, his mind already clearing for the jump he needed to make.

"I'm just doing my job. Thank me later."

Hanzo choked out a laugh and Angela's smiling face, bright with determination, faded into grey. The Bar was blurry at first, as if he were separated by a veil or seeing it from underwater, some permeable barrier. He breathed deep and the grey started to clear. It was always a little unpleasant when the veil 'popped' and all the sound came flooding in at once — even the smell was overwhelming for a moment, alcohol and cigar smoke.

The Bar was somewhere in the American South — Jesse had refused to give Hanzo a straight answer when he'd asked. It wasn't necessary to know in order to travel to — Hanzo only needed to picture himself in the Bar, along with the sounds of the other people in the bar, loud talking and awful music, the footsteps on worn wooden floors. They had visited every so often to unwind between their bounties and Jesse had always fit right in, like he was in his element. Hanzo could hardly be more out of place but seeing Jesse loosen up, his smile become relaxed and even a little playful when he challenged Hanzo to pool — Hanzo had learned to like it. He should have realised then the depths of his feelings for Jesse.

Hanzo pushed aside the thought as he looked around for him. His business with Gabe couldn't have taken longer than Hanzo's visit to Angela but the bar stools were all empty. When Hanzo turned to the booths that lined one of the walls, he froze. Gabriel smiled at him and gestured to the seat across from him. "Have a seat. I figure we have a couple of things to talk about."

Hanzo scanned his face — looking for anger, for any sign of hostility. Gabriel looked more tired than anything, the circles under his eyes dark enough to rival Angela's. "Where's Jesse?" he asked, making no move to join Gabriel in the booth.

"He's at the house. What's with the suspicion?"

Hanzo folded his arms over his chest, before he realised that made him look defensive and dropped them. Around them the buzz of conversation continued, unaware that Death was currently sat in their bar, his eyebrow raised expectantly. "I spoke with Angela. She told me everything."

Gabriel's smile turned a little sad. "How's she doing?"

"Better now that she's left."

"I'm happy for her. This life isn't for everyone." Hanzo pursed his lips to keep from retorting and Gabriel gave him a smirk. "I'll bet you figured out this life isn't for you either."

"I want to break our agreement," Hanzo said without preamble.

"OK."

"I—" Hanzo stopped short, caught completely off-guard. "Why?"

Gabriel huffed a laugh. "Aren't I supposed to be the one asking you that? You love Jesse, don't you?"

"Yes," Hanzo answered immediately.

"Then you'll want to leave, and you'll want to leave with him. And about damn time too."

Hanzo slid into the booth across from him. "I thought you would want him to stay?" he asked slowly. It felt dangerous to question Gabriel's acceptance, like he might change his mind and refuse them both, but he tilted his head and gave Hanzo a considering look.

"I did, at first. McCree's been my right hand man for five decades — but it's killing him. He was never cut out for the Duty he got but I kept hoping he was. Even let him do the bounty hunting instead of the real thing." Gabriel paused for a moment. "Angela told you that all this comes with a price, right? I thought a kid like McCree, growing up in gangs and surrounded by criminals every damn day, he'd be good as War. What's the difference between one fight and another? But I think we both know that's not who Jesse really is."

They sat in silence as they both considered what Gabriel had shared, what it had cost him to admit he was wrong. "What is Jesse doing at the house?" Hanzo asked.

Gabriel gave him a wolfish grin. "Pretty sure he's having a long talk with Fareeha, who is probably helping him and calling him a fucking dumbass in equal measures." Hanzo's confusion must have been evident because Gabriel barked a laugh. "Never did tell you what her Duty was, did we? Here's a hint: neither me nor Ana have any goddamn control over her. Kid runs around like she owns the place and she's not wrong."

"Then he's—"

"Yeah, Hanzo, he's in love with you too," Gabriel said gently. Hanzo ducked his head, twisting his fingers together in his lap. "That's why when we're done here, I'm gonna break our agreement myself. Jesse's too damn loyal to do it himself so I guess it's up to me to be the asshole."

Hanzo glanced up at him. "You have practice."

Gabriel tried to scowl at him as he stood up from the booth, but the smile ticking up the corner of his lips betrayed him. "Knew you were trouble the moment you pulled that knife on me. C'mon, kid, let's get you back home."

Hanzo rose from the booth, hesitating for a moment. "I had hoped to see Jesse before I left, in case..."

"That ain't like you, Shimada, giving up hope." Gabe held out his hand to him. "You'll see him again. You're both too goddamned stubborn not to, trust me."

Stepping back into Genji's room was surreal. Genji still lay in the futon, deathly pale, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths the exact same way Hanzo had remembered. He slipped into seiza beside his brother and for a moment it was like nothing had changed, even when everything had. Hanzo had to glance over at Gabriel, just to convince himself it was real, and the red glow of his skeletal face stared back.

I'ᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴜғғ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ.

Hanzo was confused until he felt the weight of the bow over his shoulders. It stung a little, relinquishing his weapon to Gabriel — the quiver and the two lovely arrows, his boots, his shooting glove and shoulder guard — but he did it all without regret. When he went to hand back the _tsurumaki_ , however, he almost dropped it. The swirling dragon pattern looked alive, writhing and twisting, its mouth open in a silent roar.

Oʜ? Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ?

Gabriel plucked the _tsurumaki_ from Hanzo's numb fingers.

Aʟʀɪɢʜᴛ. Kᴇᴇᴘ ʜɪᴍ sᴀғᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ MᴄCʀᴇᴇ.

What Gabriel handed back looked like a ball of blue light, which sat in the palm of Hanzo's hand before it sank into his skin. His arm up to his shoulder grew warm, and it felt like something rough brushed against him — like scales. When he pushed his sleeve back, the dragon had already made herself at home, her lightning twisting around his arm as she roared in delight on his wrist. Hanzo startled when he felt Gabriel's hand come down on his shoulder. 

Yᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏ. Sᴛᴀʏ sᴀғᴇ.

"I will. Thank you, Gabriel." Hanzo only looked away once Gabriel had completely disappeared. The room was dark, the castle echoing with the quiet, until suddenly the candle at the foot of the futon sputtered back into life. Hanzo pulled out the card Ana had gifted him and touched the corner to the little flame, watching as the strange material caught and started to burn. The white material blackened beneath his fingers, though not all of it, until Hanzo realised the only white that remained was a date and time, down to the minute. On the reverse, a place.

Hanzo smiled as he tucked the card away, and settled down to keep watch over Genji and wait for Angela to arrive.

***

**Two Months, Thirteen Days, and Forty-Three Minutes Later**

Jesse was sprawled in the dirt, a pool of blood growing beneath him from the ragged wound where his left arm had once been. Anybody else would have been begging for their life but he remained defiant, using the last of his strength to point his gun at the strange cloaked man in front of him. "Who the hell d'you think you are, some kind of goddamn Grim Reaper?" he yelled, his voice hoarse from the scream he'd loosed as his arm had been torn off.

Gᴏᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴋɪᴅ. Nᴏᴡ, ᴘᴜᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ—

The figure looked over his shoulder with something like surprise.

I'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴅᴀᴍɴᴇᴅ, ʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ.

The figure dissolved like he was made of nothing but smoke — Jesse had no time to be surprised as a man ran through the last lingering wisps and threw himself down at Jesse's side.

He figured he'd already died, that was the only reason he could think of that a gorgeous man like that could be in the New Mexico desert where McCree had been busy bleeding to death. He stared at him, somewhat dazed, as the angel hurriedly tied a tourniquet around what was left of his arm. It hurt like a bitch and the angel was even good enough to comfort him when Jesse screamed.

"It's OK, Angela will be here in a moment, she has her biotics already prepped. You're going to be OK, Jesse."

"Real pretty how you say my name," he slurred. The angel was starting to look panicked and Jesse immediately felt bad for worrying him. "What's your name, sugar?"

"I'm Hanzo, Jesse. Remember?" the angel said, something deeper than panic in his eyes. If Jesse hadn't been half-dead, he's sure he would have known what it was. "We've met before, at Gabe's house?"

"I'm sure I'd remember seeing a gorgeous creature like you before." Hanzo huffed a laugh — it was even prettier than saying him say Jesse's name. "Hope ya don't hold it against me, Hanzo."

"Of course not." The angel hesitated a moment before taking Jesse's remaining hand. He hadn't even realised he was still holding Peacekeeper until Hanzo took her and set her down. He kept a hold of Jesse's hand, strong fingers gripping Jesse's own, and there was something awfully familiar about that. Jesse kept trying to grasp at it but the feeling kept slipping just out of reach.

It was getting harder to stay awake, even so he could stay with Hanzo. "Don't leave me," he mumbled, barely understandable. "Don't wanna be alone right now."

Hanzo squeezed his hand so hard it ached. "Never, I promise." He ducked his head and kissed Jesse's hand, just as Angela appeared with her staff blazing with golden light. And a breath before Jesse passed out, he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thanks to my artists and the other people in the big bang <3  
> Here's brandewyn's art  
> https://brandewynillustrations.tumblr.com/post/184206463014/my-work-for-the-mchanzo-big-bang-2019-i
> 
> And here's bouncyenvos'  
> http://bouncyenvos.tumblr.com/post/184211200920


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